Songs and Sentiment
by Petrichor1110
Summary: John and Sherlock realize abruptly that they have feelings for each other, but John is holding back. Warning: Shameless smut. Johnlock. Parentlock. And fluffy bits.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I dont own Sherlock, sadly.

* * *

"John!" Sherlock howled as he came running up the stairs to the flat.

"What? You know I might actually be bu.."He tried to say, before Sherlock inturrupted him with a strong, short, and alarmingly erotic kiss to his lips. "Sherlock, are you alright?" John asked, still stunned.

"I am just fine, why do you ask?"

"Well you came bounding up the stairs, and you just kissed me." John sputtered.

"And?" Sherlock asked as he resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Okay, how do I put this delicately? What in God's name is going through your head?" Watson asked now visibly upset at what had just transpired. "You can't just kiss someone like that, out of nowhere, and just go on acting like nothing happened."

"Why are you upset about this? If anyone should be upset, it should be me." Sherlock replied nonchalantly.

"Why should you be upset? I'm not the one burst into the flat and start snogging you out of the blue."

"Well the kiss was less than satisfactory on my side, and as I can only imagine I preformed excellently, I feel I should be the one upset. Unless on the other hand you did not enjoy that and then this would just be awkward." Sherlock said as he sat down at his desk and turned his attention to his laptop.

"No, Sherlock, this conversation is not over." John said as he walked toward the dark haired man and shut the laptop, leaving his hand on the desk in front of him. "What do you mean less than satisfactory? "

"Sorry, was I not clear? I will make this short and to the point, it was like kissing a plank." Sherlock said, now noticeably on the verge of anger.

A plank! A plank! John had kissed many a person over his time and he never had been told his kissing was anything less wonderful and knee weakening.

John pulled the collar of Sherlock's button down and brought the taller man to his lips, kissing him with an undiscovered fire that now blazed. He used his lips to slowly pry the other mans lips apart before his tongue dived in, exploring the warm cave of Sherlock's mouth. Wrapping on hand into the dark curls, John pulled him in closer hardly remembering to breath. It was only then he felt the great detective reciprocate, his body turning into John's, his long fingers winding around the doctor's waist, making him kneel into the chair, giving him more leverage over the army doctor. John's hand was on his neck, his lips fiercely pressed against the others, his fingers finding and tugging on the satin curls that lay upon Sherlock's head. Only Sherlock's sudden moan that brought him out of the fired frenzy. John pulled away to look at his flat mate, his eyes, those deep crystal eyes, hungry as they roamed over him. John just stood, unmoving for a minute, before grabbing his coat off the rack and running out the door.

"John! " Sherlock yelled, his voice following him out the door.

He hadn't done anything wrong, so why was John angry? Sherlock had found that second kiss alarmingly arousing, as far as he could tell John had as well, pupils dilated, pulse accelerated, cheeks flush, not to mention the almost hard bulge Sherlock had felt grinding against his leg. So if it wasnt his performance, it had to be something on John's end, but what?

* * *

John shivered as the cold air hit his over sensitized face, tingling as snowflakes hit his cheeks. He enjoyed winter, the cold made him alive, he had spent to many days under the desert sun letting it tire him out, to not be grateful for a winter's chill. He felt something akin to remorse for leaving like that, but what else was there to do? He hadn't preplanned or even thought anything close to the afternoons events would ever occur. Sherlock of all people, the sociopath, the man who viewed his body as transport and nothing else, it hadn't even occurred to him that he might have a libido or any desires of the kind.

John, please come home. We need to talk. -SH

John ignored it, he didn't want to explain to Sherlock all the reasons he fled that flat. The main reason being that he was scared, the last time he got into a relationship it went down in flames. The second being, he didn't know if he could commit to anything right now, especially his flatmate, what if anything went wrong? He would not only feel the sting of a broken relationship but also he would be out of the flat. Then there was Maddy. Too many things he didn't think about until he had already kissed his gorgeous man of a flatmate. He had always known he was handsome but until that kiss he had never really taken him in, he was fully breathtaking, tall, his dark curls tucked behind his ears, his genius eyes taking in everything always. God, even just thinking about him was turning him on. Had Sherlock sensed this, and acted accordingly?

Please, can we talk about this. I don't want this to hurt our friendship. -SH

Freindship, maybe he didn't want anything more. But then did John really want more, yes, could he afford to take that risk, no. He couldn't have a relationship with his only friend, he couldn't have a relationship with a man, he couldn't have a relationship at all. He wasn't gay, he only had relationships with women, yes he had snogged a few men while he was in school, but who hadn't?

God he had made a mess of this, what was he going to do? He couldn't avoid him forever, may as well get it over with, before he got himself in more trouble. He fought in a war and yet going to face this man, who he had known for over a year, was making his hands shake.

He opened the front door as quietly as he could manage, before creaking up the stairs. He peered through the crack of the door, Sherlock wasn't at his desk, but surely he knew John was there. John snuck through, barely opening the door.

"John." The deep baritone boomed behind him.

Almost jumping, John turned around. "God, Sherlock, don't scare me like that." He said, looking at the man sitting on the green leather sofa.

"John. We need to talk about this, are you angry with me?" Sherlock asked as he crossed his legs.

"No Sherlock, I am not angry with you, I am angry with myself." John said, rubbing his forehead before sitting down beside the detective.

"Is it because I did something wrong? Because I assumed you were as attracted to me as I was to you, but if I misunderstood that was my fault."

"No, I am attracted to you, but I just can't handle any commitment right now. When you kissed me, I was shocked. Then when I kissed you, I..I didn't think about the consequences, and that was my mistake. " John said trying to be delicate.

"Well if you are attracted to me, and I to you, I don't need a commitment, John. I will take what ever you let me have. Now I am making a fool of myself, so I will stop." He said as he started to mumble under his breath.

"You are not a fool, you are the least foolish person I know. But I need you to understand that I dont even know how much of myself I can give you, there are things you don't know about me, and I have things I don't know if I am ready to tell you."

"John I don't expect you, after one kiss to give away all your secrets and I dont expect a relationship, I expect exclusivity and that's all. I don't see why things must change all at once or even at all as the case may be."

"Oh, okay. So no snogging other people, anything else?" John asked, now feeling as if he had taken things a little too far.

"No that's all." Sherlock said as he grabbed John's hand and laid a light kiss to the rough skin.

"Well, I think I'm going to go take a shower then. It's been a long day." He said as he left a thinking Sherlock at his desk.

* * *

The mirror was foggy by the time John had stripped and was ready to get in. The warm water running through his hair and down his back, dripping steadily onto the tub floor. He stood there for a few minutes just enjoying the water, letting it was away his stress and all the thoughts of the day. He grab his soap and started to lather, smelling something sweet, probably some kind of fruit or something in the soap. Suddenly the curtain jostled and two very long hands wrapped around him, a mouth kissing his shoulder, and a naked body pulling him closer.

"Sherlock." John said almost angrily, could he not get a moment's peace. But his protests soon turned into more of a moan. "Sherlock...Sher..."

"I thought that was an invitation, I see I was right. "He mumbled in between kisses, slowly moving up John's neck before turning him around and moving his way to his lips. John wasn't sure if Sherlock had ever had a lover, or had ever found someone he deemed worthy of loving, but whatever the case he was remarkable. He knew every spot to make John beg.

"Sher...we need to go slow..I have never done this before." John said looking at Sherlock's hungry eyes once more. "With a man."

"Did you want to stop?" Sherlock asked still running his fingers over his sides, letting the water fall over them.

"No, um. No, just slow."

"I can go slow." Sherlock said as he gently kissed John's lips before departing and making his was down the blonde's chest. Moving his kisses around until he found a nipple and sucked it lightly, bring his hands down to the doctor's tight ass as he did. Making John moan, which only egged him on.

Sherlock moved his head lower and lower until his mouth it found its intended target. He moved so he was on his knees with his nose in John's groin, making him shudder. Sherlock laid little kissed onto John's already hard cock, before swallowing as much as he could. Both men were well endowed making what Sherlock was doing no easy task. Tasting John's sweet and salty cock in his mouth, he took as much as he could, swirling his tongue from the base to the tip and back again, feeling John buck himself into Sherlock's mouth. Sherlock could feel John's pleasure building, hearing his moans get louder and louder, his legs shaking to the point he needed to grab the wall for support. First moaning his name before beginning unintelligible sounds of delight.

"Sher...Sher!" John managed to get out as a warning before exploding into his flatmates waiting mouth. Sherlock swallowed all he could, riding the waves of John's orgasm, managing to take almost all he could give, missing only a few drops that the water quickly washed away before John pulled him back up into a kiss, strong, deep, and passionate. Making all other kisses feel weak in comparison.

"Now it's your turn." John panted, taking in as much air as he could, before slowly making his way down and grasping Sherlock hard shaft, using the water as a lube, he ran his hand back and forth his grip tight, but his touch soft. John knew it wouldn't take long, Sherlock's deep baritone sounds booming in the small bathroom. Within moment Sherlock released, spraying John's face and chest with pearly white strings of cum.

"Oh god, that was fantastic." John said as he kissed him through the rain of the shower. Washing Sherlock's warm spray away.

"Agreed." Sherlock said as he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, holding a towel for the doctor to grab. "Now, you need to dry off." Sherlock gave him a mischievous grin, even adding a wink for effect.

John just smiled and jumped out, his legs still wobbly, taking the towel and wrapping it around his waist before pulling Sherlock towards his and kissing him once more tasting that deep saltiness he craved. "Okay."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock sadly.

A/N: I hope you are all enjoying the story so far!

* * *

After their affair had began, it seemed like nothing had changed. It had only been a few months but things seemed to be going well. Sherlock still hardly ate, they still ran around the city after criminals, and John still hadn't revealed anything, and true to his word, Sherlock didn't mind. Though one part of their arrangement had changed, the had taken to having quite a lot of mind shattering sex. It had been slow, and almost awkward at first, but now they found it easy to take each other to bed or the shower, on the table, in the kitchen, on the living room floor, anywhere they could manage. Sherlock had almost convinced John to have sex on the stairs leading up to the flat while Mrs. Hudson was out shopping, but she came back to soon to try. Overall they had a good setup, it was like having a best friend and a relationship in one.

"Where are you off too? Hmm?" Sherlock had asked one night after dinner.

"Oh, no where." John replied as he tied his shoes.

Sherlock could tell he was on his way to meet some one, the only time he wore his nice brown shoes was when he was going to meet someone, or on a date.

"How long will you be out?" He asked.

"Uh, just a few hours probably, but I can't say." John said, standing up to grab his coat.

Sherlock pursed his lips, trying to make sense of this mystery. "Okay, well, I will see you when you get back."

"Bye." John said as he rushed out the door.

John had told him he had secrets, but just because Sherlock didn't need to know everything, it didn't mean he liked being lied too. Even Sherlock had things he had kept from his friend, somethings silly, others serious, but all the same he never lied about them. Someday he felt like he was alone in his affections, with John just taking him for granted. Which of course he knew wasn't true, because he could tell when he was being used and John wasn't that type of person. He was sweet, and kind, and gentle, both in his emotions and his love. Sherlock sat unmoving for hours, pondering John, their relationship, and where this was headed, because he honestly wasn't sure, but he needed to trust that John would be good to his word.

* * *

John hopped in a taxi, giving the driver the adress quickly, before locking the seatbelt into place. He never enjoyed lying to Sherlock, especially when Sherlock probably knew he was being lied to. But this was always a part of the deal, he had things, parts of him that very few people knew about and this was one of them. If Sherlock wanted to love him, he would have to love everything, including the things he had yet to discover. John was still in his rights, the only rule was no cheating, so as long as he didn't break that one he was okay.

It wasn't a far drive, only thirty minutes or so of busy city driving, yet it felt like hours. Every red light felt like a year. By the time he got there he was itching, his shirt felt too tight, all he could think of was that he was forgetting something. On his way he had picked up a small pink bag with a gift inside and topped off with a pale pink tissue paper. The girl at the shop had been very sweet as she wrapped it all up, even adding a bow, talking away as she added all the finishing touches.

"Is it for someone special?" She asked, making small talk.

All John said was "Very" .

He walked up to the plain white door as he had done only a handful of times before and knocked quietly. The woman who answered the door was in a slinky dark purple dress, she had red lips, and her long hair was in curls.

"Hey, thanks for coming so short notice." She said as she opened the door to let him into the well-lit entrance way.

"Hey, ya, no problem. I will take any time I can get." He said and he rocked on his toes, holding the bag behind his back.

"Well I should be leaving soon, and I will probably be back before ten, if not, definitely by eleven." She said as she placed a necklace over her head, making sure everything was just right before she had to leave. "She's right through there, and she's already eaten and all ready for bed, and please John make sure she's down by nine, otherwise..."

John cut her off before she could say anymore. "Go, it's all right Sam, I've got this. Plus, I think your date is here." He said pointing to the man on the small security screen, just before the doorbell rang.

"Okay, thanks again. " She said as she picked up her purse and went out the door.

John waded through to the next room where he saw her. The small girl, her auburn curls hanging loose in front of her eyes, sitting wearing purple polka dot pajamas, drinking out of a sippy cup as she watched a princess cartoon.

"Hey Maddy!" He called as she turned around to look at him, dropping the sippy cup with excitment.

"Daddy! Uppy! Up!" She squealed as she wobbled towards him unsteadily, her small arms waving out in front of her.

He looked at his little girl and smiled as he lifted her over his head and spun them in a circle. Her high giggles chiming through the air.

"Hello, you silly girl." He put her down. "Maddy, I got you something." He said as he showed her the bag with the little pink bow.

"What daddy?" She said with a grin.

"I guess we will have to find out. Open it!" He passed her the bag and watched and her tiny fingers went to work removing all the tissue paper. Until she pulled out a soft doll with hair just like hers, wearing a blue princess dress.

"Daddy...wow" She said in amazement, she immediately hugged the doll and then headed back to her spot on the floor. " Come Daddy." She continued as she patted the floor beside herself.

This was his biggest secret among other things, this little girl that held his heart so completely. Could he ever really share this side of himself with Sherlock? It was well known Sherlock didn't want children, he didn't want a family, he had only recently shown even the slightest of interest in a romantic relationship, so how could he ever trust Sherlock to be around his sweet little Madeline? Every time Sherlock even saw a child he looked away, he viewed them as sniffley, sickly, creatures, whose only purpose was to make a mess. But john knew that if the relationship ever got to a serious point, he wouldn't be able to keep her a secret much longer.

Joh sat and watched television with his daughter for and hour or so before taking her upstairs for stories, story time always went long, but he didn't mind because every story was an extra five minutes he could spend with her. Once they got to her room she went over to the small bookcase and pulled book after book off of the shelf, until she had at least twelve stories for him to read. Smiling he tucked her into bed, her new doll still in hand, reading one story after another. He kissed her forehead as he saw her eyes start to flutter closed.

"Night, Daddy." She whispered as sleep washed over her.

"Goodnight, Madeline." He said as he brushed her curls off her face and behind her small ears.

She was getting so big, it seemed like every time he saw he she would grow a foot, or lose a tooth, or learn some new extraordinary thing. It hurt that he wasn't able to be there for her first words, or first steps, or first haircut, he felt like he was missing out on everything, but he would take being the date night babysitter over no time at all, he loved her.

* * *

John walked in the door at half past eleven, only to see Sherlock in his chair just like before, nothing changed.

"Sherlock? " John asked, seeing if he was there or to far into his own mind to respond.

"Why did you wear your brown shoes?" He asked, clearly focused on something.

"Uh, because I wanted to go outside the flat, and I needed shoes?" He stumbled as he attempted to follow Sherlock's line of thought.

"No, why the brown ones specifically, why your nice brown ones?" Sherlock asked as he stood up, walking closer until he was face to face with John. "Why do you smell like perfume and have wine on your shirt?"

" Seriously? That's what this is about? You don't trust me to leave the flat for a few hours without hooking up with the fist person I come across?" John stated, shaking his head. "Your jealous because you think I'm off spending time with woman?"

"Well weren't you, that seems to fit all the evidence." Sherlock said sternly.

"No I wasn't. Sherlock I gave you my word, if you think I would just go and break it, maybe you don't know me at all. The wine is fruit juice, the perfume was from an old friend I ran into on the street, and my trainers need new laces. Are we happy now?" He said as he turned to go up to his room. "Do you know what, you can sleep in your own bed tonight. "

Sherlock just stood there, angry with himself for being so foolish and clouded. How could he think that of John? John his oldest and only friend.

* * *

Neither of the two men slept well that night, so unused to sleeping without the comfort of the other, and the sting of the fight still lingering on. John was up when his 6 am alarm started ringing. So he got up and went to the kitchen to make himself a coffee, just to get to the kitchen and find a piping hot cup waiting for him. Sherlock. John sat down in his chair and sipped his coffee when the other man finally rounded the corner.

"I am sorry, John." Sherlock said as he took his place in the chair across from John.

"As you should be." He said, taking another sip from the green mug.

"I was jealous and clouded in my judgment. It won't happen again. "

John sat there quietly, not saying anything. He probably should tell him where he had been, but he just couldn't. He didn't want to risk what they had by revealing it to soon?

"Alright, your forgiven. But from now on you have to trust me."

"I will, it's just, I've never done this before." The taller man said, gesturing to the space between them. "So I am not sure what's appropriate or in truth, how to behave."

Sherlock was so adorable when he got flustered, almost tripping over his words, and a flush rising in his cheeks.

"That's okay, we can learn together, but please don't attack me when I walk in the door." John said smiling and finishing his coffee. Sherlock went over and kissed his neck and moved his way to John's mouth.

"What if it's this kind of attack?" He said, pulling away for air before diving back in, kissng John's neck with passion.

"Uh, ya, that would be fine." He said almost giggling as Sherlock brushed over a ticklish spot. "But I need to go get ready for work, so I think we might need to finish this later." He said as he brought Sherlock's lips to his and kissed them gently.

"As long as we finish this, I'm content." Sherlock said giving John a final peck before flopping back into his chair.

They worked well together, as friends, detectives, and lovers. John just had to set certain boundaries, like no inappropriate touching while at a crime scene, but that only happened once before John put a stop to it. Together they were learning how to be with each other and make everything run smoothly. They were soon in a rhythm and understood when the other was angry and usually what over, or what one person wanted and when, they were starting to become less of friends who shagged and more of a couple, and that was a wonderful feeling.


	3. Chapter 3

"What do you mean I can't see her anymore!?" John yelled into the phone.

"John, you chase criminals and get in fights as a side job, do you really think It's a good idea to have Maddy around that?" The voice on the other end creaked.

"I am also a doctor, in the army, and in the block watch! What does that have to do with anything? And she's never around it, I only see her once or twice a month, and only when it works for you, so don't give me that Sam." he said as he rubbed his forehead.

"But you weren't there when I was pregnant, or when she was born, you're never there."

"It was a one night stand before I was deployed for ten months! You never even told me you were pregnant!" He realized quickly he was pacing around the room, god, he was turning into Sherlock. How could she take his daughter away like this, all because she saw a picture of him at a crime scene. "When I got back she was already a month old and I found out through Murray of all people.

"Well, you still should have called." She snide.

"When Sam, when should I have called? Before or after I got shot at? Or maybe during?" He said, almost biting his tongue. "Anyway, we are past that, you can't just take her away from me." He said much more calmly than before.

"John, your her father, so it's your right to see her, but I'm not going to let you put her in danger."

"She's not in danger, no one even knows about her, not even Sherlock. I swear." John said desperately. "Just tell me what you want me to do and I will do it."

"You are a great father, I know that, Maddy is always saying daddy this or daddy that. But you can't just be a once and a while dad, Maddy needs you there either all the time or not at all."

It warmed his heart to know that she remembered him when he wasn't there, he was always worried that when he walked out the door, she would forget him completely.

"Okay then let me be there, I will do day trips, I will take her for the weekends, I will be there whenever you will let me." He would do anything he could to be a bigger part of Maddy's life, wasn't this what he had wanted all along?

"I can't have her growing up, knowing her father and never seeing him, thinking you don't love her."

"I know that, I don't want that either. I want her to know how much I love her." John said.

"Okay, well or once or twice a month isn't enough, how about we start with once a week, and then maybe you can start taking her on every other weekend? And you need to stop chasing after criminals."

"I can do that, I will." Maybe just a small case or two, he thought to himself.

"What about your flatmate, is he okay?" She asked worriedly.

Oh, shit. What was he going to do about Sherlock? He had already agreed to take Maddy for weekends and to take on fewer cases. Sherlock didn't even know Maddy existed. God, just one more thing to think about.

"John?"

"Oh ya, sorry. I got distracted. Yes, Sherlock is great, he probably wouldn't even be here, I swear sometimes I don't see him for days." John lied, but it was almost true...before they had started sleeping together, if he was on a case, he would be gone for days at a time.

"Okay, we will see how it goes, does Saturday work for you?"

"Uh ya, Saturday would be amazing." He said with a big smile on his face. "Can I pick her up around nine?" He was giddy, he was so happy. He was always excited when he got to see Maddy, but at the prospect of getting her for a whole day was both exciting and a little scary, he had never taken her anywhere, what if he forget something, or she needed something he didn't know how to do? Up until now its been babysitting, he had never done any parenting, even though she was over a year old.

Once everything was planned and set up, he had to think about Sherlock. When was he going to tell him? How would he tell him not only that he had a child but that he was going to have to help him less. Sherlock would not be happy about losing his assistant. Too many things were running through John's head when he heard the front door close. He had decided that he would tell him about the cases but not about Maddy, he couldn't, not yet anyway.

"John?" The deep voice called.

John moved from his room to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. "Ya, I'm here."

"Were you yelling? Mrs. Hudson said she heard you yelling. She was quite concerned." He say as he came to join him in the kitchen, throwing his long dark coat over one of the tables chairs.

"Uh ya, but it was nothing. Just me being..." John stuttered as he tried to think of the right word. "Silly."

Sherlock scrunched his eyebrows together and shot john a puzzled look for a brief second before relaxing his face. "Was it Harry?"

Harry! He could blame it on her, he hated lying to Sherlock but sometimes he had to to keep his secret. "Uh ya, she fell off the wagon again. Clara said she was thinking about putting her in rehab and off she went." John said almost a bit to cheerfully.

"John, don't lie to me. You don't have to tell me what it is you are trying so desperately to hide, but don't lie to me. If you are on trouble, maybe I could help, or maybe Mycroft..."

"No, we are not bringing your brother into this. And I'm not in trouble, its nothing I swear. I'm sorry I lied, and it's not Harry, well as far as I know." They both knew her taking up drinking again would probably happen soon. "Sherlock, I can see those gears turning in your head, stop it. I will tell you when I'm ready." He said as he pecked him on the cheek and grabbed the kettle before it started to screech.

Sherlock sat down in one of the kitchen chairs, puzzled, but soon moved on to the next topic. "So John, Lestrade texted me with a beautiful case..."

John stopped him, this was as good of an opening as he would ever get. "Sherlock I need to talk to you about that. I need to focus on my work right now, I am getting really behind at the surgery, and if I don't start showing up on time, I don't think Sarah will be able to keep me on." Another lie. Why was lying to him so easy?

"What do you mean John?" Sherlock asked quietly.

"I mean, I'll help you out with some small cases and maybe the occasional one of intrest, but other than that you might need to go alone." John was trying to act like it was nothing, but turning to see the crushed look on Sherlock's face wrecked that charade.

"Tell me now John, is it me? If you want our relationship to end tell me." Sherlock said with sad eyes.

"No, Sherlock, that's the last thing I want. I..I love you." He said as he sat down beside him and took his hand in his own.

"You do realize that's just..." Sherlock tried to say before John silenced him with a kiss.

"Yes I know, all the brain chemistry, what you are supposed to say is I love you too."

"I love you too." Sherlock said, smiling into John's eyes.

"So now that we have that settled, do you want tea as well?" John asked as he stood up to grab his cup.

"No, thank you, I will probably just have a glass of water." Sherlock said seeming slightly distracted. "I'm still not happy about this work nonsense, but if you feel this is what you need to do, I will support you."

He was incredible, he was really trying, John knew he was upset by his sudden disinterest, but he was allowing it. The Sherlock he had known before probably would have gone down to the office and taken his full force out on Sarah until she conceded. Not that in this situation it would have been hard to do considering she wasn't really the problem.

"Thank you, I really appreciate that. And maybe it will just be a short break, we will just see." John said hopeful that Sam would see the error of her ways.

* * *

Saturday had come fast, it was as if the rest of the week never happened, and he was just standing at her front door. He had decided to take her to the science museum, very Sherlock. But at least they would have fun.

He rang the bell once before the door swung open. "Come in, come in." Sam said as she waved him inside. "Maddy is all ready to go, here's the diaper bag, there's clothes, wipes, toys, snacks, everything you could ever need is in the bag." She said as she patted the pink striped bag.

"Daddy!" Maddy chimed coming around the corner in a purple jacket.

"Hello, sweetheart!" He said as he kissed her cheek and swung her into his arms.

"Did you want to take the stroller?" Sam asked pointing to the folded contraption in the corner.

"Uh no, we should be fine." He said putting his focus back into tickling the little girl. "Well we should get going, I think we should be back around three or four, but I will call you and let you know." He said with a smile, picking up the diaper bag. "Say bye to mum, sweetie."

"Bye bye mummy!" She giggled almost bursting into laughter.

After about ten minutes John wished he had brought the stroller, it was harder than it looked toting a one year old around the city. By the time they actually got to the museum, it was almost ten thirty and both of them seemed a bit tuckered out, but they pressed on, John even prenting a stroller from the museum to make things a bit easier. Maddy oohed and ahhed at everything and tried to touch anything she could get her hands on.

After a full morning of games and silliness, they left to get some lunch, with john promising they would go back soon. After they picked up some fries they sat down in the park to eat their lunch of fries and mushy peas and carrots.

"No honey, you have to eat your lunch before you go play."

"No daddy. Play now." She said with a pout and her arms crossed.

"Please Maddy, two bites?" He asked sweetly.

"Okay, daddy." She smiled as she ate the last two bites and ran towards the playground with John trailing after her. "Uppy, p'ease." She asked as she reached her hands toward him.

He lifted her to the lower bit of the playset, just high enough to reach the slide. " Ok now, come slide down."

"I scared." She said looking down toward the bottom.

"It's fine honey, I'll catch you at the bottom." John said moving to the bottom.

"P'omise?" She asked.

"Of course, I'll be right here." He watched as the little girl sat down at the top of the small slide, positioning herself just right. Her pretty red hair and clear blue eye, blue eyes identical to his.

Finally she slid the whole five foot length of the slide, gripping her sweater all the way down until John caught her.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"That fun!" She squealed. "Again daddy? Again!" She said wobbling back towards the playground set.

John put her back up and quickly she was at the bottom in a fit of giggles all over again, after about ten rounds, she stooped and just looked at him, her eyes wide.

"Daddy, I tired." She said with a yawn.

"Is it time to get you back home for a nap?"

She nodded in response, smiling as John picked her up and held her tight. When the got back to the house it was one and Maddy was asleep in his arms.

"Back already?" Sam asked, opening the door.

"Ya, we had a full day though." He said, smiling.

Maddy stirred and rubbed her eyes as she started to wake up.

"Mummy?" She asked as John passed her off.

Sam kissed her soft cheek, looking at John as she did. He just put the baby bag on the floor, kissed Maddy goodbye and left, grinning ear to ear. He had survived his first outing with a one year old, and quite well to, or so he thought. There hadn't been any meltdowns or freakouts, he hadn't forgotten anything. It wasn't as easy as previously imagined but at least now he was more prepared. As he made his way back to 221B Bakers Street, he thought of the little girl, his little girl, the one who had him wrapped around her little finger.

* * *

A/N: So I hope you guys are all enjoying this story, thought I would add some fluffy father daughter time. Please leave a review, let me know what you guys all think!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Some dark stuff happens in this chapter, so beware.

* * *

John had decided after a year of friendship and almost eight months in a romantic capacity, he would tell Sherlock about Madeline. He deserved to know, and John really wouldn't be able to keep her a secret much longer, Sam had finally decided he was ready to take her for a weekend. The only problem was that John wasn't sure he was, in fact, ready. Was he really mature enough to be a father, he was only twenty eight, but if he was able to join the army he could be a father, he just needed to prove he could be a damn good one too.

"Sherlock?" John asked, making he sure he was actually paying attention.

"Mmm, yes John? " He hummed.

"Where do you see yourself in five or ten years?" John asked, putting his tea down on the table.

"That's a ridiculous question." He replied going back to whatever experiment he was writing about.

"No, it's a serious question. In your mind, are we together, are we happy, do we have kids?" He asked trying not to hint at anything in particular.

"In my mind, we are together, you work at the surgery, I am still a consulting detective, and no we do not have children. Why are you unhappy with the way things are?" He asked, finally looking at him. Realizing it was a serious conversation.

"No, I am quite happy with things like this, but what if one day I want to ask you to marry me, or if one day I want kids what then? I want to know where you stand."

"Well, you know how I feel about both. Marriage means nothing, it's just a piece of paper with our names on it, and children, well, they are just problems waiting to happen, when you really think about them, I can't imagine anyone wanting one except to satisfy their biological need to breed."

"You can be so horrible sometimes, god." John said just shaking his head.

"What do you mean? You asked for my opinion and I provided it." Sherlock said, quite puzzled.

"Okay, if you are so smart, what am I feeling right now?" John said standing up and taking his cup to the sink.

"I pretty sure you are upset. Although your reasoning baffles me." He replied harshly.

"Sherlock, you never think about anyone but yourself." John stated angrily. "You know, you have always known I wanted children, and the dog, and the big family Christmases."

"As you have always known, I desire the complete opposite, all I need is you." He said, glancing toward the kitchen where John was still washing his cup.

John was moved by Sherlock's kind words, but was still hurt by the other things he was saying. "Sherlock if you want me, you have to want all of me, even the bits that you might not agree with."

"Doesn't the same apply to you?" He asked.

"It does, I love you, even though you can be an ass at time, even though you leave jars of various body parts in the fridge next to my lunch, even though sometimes you ignore me for hours at a time. I love you even though you do all that and more." John said, opening the fridge for an example, showing him a glass mason jars on the second shelf.

"Why don't you just leave me, am I really worth all that?" He asked.

"Because I love you, but I can't give up my whole life to suit yours, relationships are made of compromises, big and small. You need to think about what you might have to give up." John said as he gave up on the dishes and headed up toward his room.

"Am I coming? " Sherlock asked.

"No, not until you make a decision." John teased, undermining the seriousness of his tone.

"In that case, I will be up soon."Sherlock said with a smirk.

He didn't make it upstairs for three hours, but when he did he had his mind made up. He climbed into John's bed, as he did almost every night, only to find John already asleep.

"I chose you, just the way you are." He whispered as he kissed John's forehead.

Just as he closed his eyes John's phone went off, beeping as it did. Sherlock looked at it, not even thinking.

Four missed calls.

I need you, call me as soon as you get this. - Lea

Who was Lea? Why had John never mentioned her and why did she feel it was alright to text him in the middle of the night?

Sherlock nudged him, feeling that the text was probably important, even if he didn't understand why.

"Mmm, finally." John said reaching towards him.

"Your phone rang." Sherlock said, rolling onto his side.

John fumbled for his cell in the dark, reaching aimlessly before eventually latching on. With one glance, he was on his feet, pulling himself out of bed.

"I'm just going to make a call, one sec." John said as he headed for the door.

"Please, just come back to bed." Sherlock tried to convince him to choose him over the woman on the phone. But he didn't.

"One second." He said, leaving the room.

Sherlock was left, laying in an empty bed, he could hear John downstairs. John was talking quickly, loudly, worriedly. He heard bits and pieces like "slow down" or "what do you mean", but he couldn't hear what they were talking about. Suddenly, he could hear John taking the stairs two at a time.

John rushed back into the room, grabbing jeans, a shirt, and his blue jumper. The one that brought out his eyes, Sherlock noted.

"I've got to go. I don't know when I will be back." He said throwing the shirt over his head.

"Let me come, I can support you." Sherlock said, now standing as well.

"No." John said without hesitation. "I'm sorry Sherlock, I have to go, I will call you later. I love you. "

"John. Please." He said as the door shut for the last time, not coming back.

Sherlock was left alone again. He knew John would eventually choose someone else over him, he just hoped they would have more time. Everyone always did, after a while they got boring or they grew tired of him, then they would find some who could keep their attention, someone who could entertain them. Sherlock was limited socially, he had waited for this, and now it had come.

* * *

John ran down the stairs and into the street, waving his arm as he went, hoping to catch a taxi as he ran. After a few more waves he finally caught a worn down cab, but it didn't really matter as long as he got there and fast.

"Bart's hospital, as quick as you can." John said as he jumped in.

As soon as he got there he ran down the hall, hoping to get there in good time. He brushed past colorful walls, signs, carts with sheets and towels, but none of it mattered, he ran as fast as he could, until he saw Sam's older sister sitting outside of a hospital room with her head in her hands.

"Lea, Lea, what happened!?" He asked, standing above her.

She didn't move she just stayed still. Finally she looked up at him, her eyes red and puffy, her fingers wiping away tears. "Um, they were driving home from a friends, and...they got hit, it was just some kid. He's only seventeen, and he was speeding, and he hit them John, he hit them." She stammered. She struggled to get out the words that needed to be said.

"Where's Maddy!? Tell me!" He said, shaking her shoulders.

"Maddy is okay, she's downstairs getting checked out. But John... it's Sam. They say she's... she's not going to make it." She cried, bursting into a flood of sobs, unable to stop.

"Oh god." John sighed, sliding down the wall until he sat beside her.

They sat in silence, waiting for any news, neither touching or talking, just comforting each other with their presence. John thought about Sam and the time they shared. The night they slept together, they had both been a little drunk and very upset. John had been set to deploy in less than two days, Harry had called him, plastered as always, telling him she wouldn't come say goodbye. He was searching for comfort and Sam was there. That's how it happened, it was bland but it brought them peace, making them feel an inch closer to happiness. After that, John left and decided not to look back. If it wasn't for Murray, John might never had known all that he had left behind.

After almost half an hour, a doctor rounded the corner, making his way towards them. They scrambled to their feet, hoping for any scrap of good news.

"She doesn't have long." He said, patting John's shoulder. John recognized the old, grey haired doctor from when he was at school, which seemed like a thousand years ago now.

"What does that mean?" Lea choked.

"You should go say your goodbyes. She is awake for now, but I'm afraid we are down to maybe an hour if we are lucky." He said as he turned away.

"Maddy, she will want to see her." Lea said, looking at him.

"I'll go, I'll get her, go say goodbye." John said, knowing it would be better for her to go first.

As he went down towards the children's ward, he continued to think about the times they had shared, and the things they had done, and also what this would mean for not only his but Maddy's future. He loved his daughter immensely, he couldn't imagine her going to anyone else, he was her father. Plus they had never really talked about what would happen should something like this occur.

He got to room 109 and push open the door. His little girl was laying there so peaceful, he could see she had a scratch or two but looking at her chart he knew it was nothing serious. He combed her little curls with his fingers, running them through he auburn hair.

"Mmm." She said as she rolled over to look at him. She smiled."Daddy, up." She reached out towards him obviously still tired as he picked her up and she wrapped herself around him.

"Honey, we are going to see mommy now, but you have to be very quiet." He said, rubbing little circles on her back.

"Mum? Okie Daddy." She said, laying her head to rest on his shoulder.

It was at this moment that John realized that he didn't need to prove to anyone he could be a good father, because she knew it and he knew it and that's all that mattered. This tiny life that had help to create, was truly the most wonderful thing to ever happen to him, if Sherlock couldn't handle that well then John knew who he would choose. If Sherlock couldn't love him for who he was then he couldn't love Sherlock.

Lea stumbled out of the room, wet marks trailing down her cheeks. "She's asking for her."

John opened the door careful not to disturb anything, if anything it was now he didn't want to make a fool of himself.

"John? Is that you?"* she asked as he turned the corner.

"Ya, it is. Maddy is here too." He said as he laid the little girl next to her mother in the dim room. Sam smiled as Maddy curled into her.

"John, please, I'm not ready to go, I..I can't leave her." She said, reaching for his hand which he willingly gave.

He didn't know what to say, what could he? It's not like he could fix her, he had looked at her charts, the damage was irreversible, nothing could be done. So he just sat and watched as Sam started to braid their little girls hair, whispering and singing as she did. The whispers were broken with sobs and the songs were sad, but somehow it all fit in the moment.

"And one day, when you are all grown up sweety, your daddy will tell you about me, he will tell you about all the fun things we did, and who I was, and how much I love you." Suddenly she looked at him, with tears streaming. "You will, won't you? You won't let her forget me?"

"Sam she will always know who you are, I promise, I will talk about you every moment, every night at bedtime, anytime I can. She will never forget you." He said, kissing her hand. That was the least he could do for the woman who had raised his child so completely up to this point.

"Thank you, and just, take care of her, make sure she's all right."

"Sam, I love her more than anything, it's my job to make sure she's alright." John said, saying anything he could to comfort her.

Soon the little girl was fast asleep against her mother with John and Sam taking in these silent moments, both understanding she was close to the end. Soon her eyes fluttered close, her breathing changing, instead of the deep full breaths she was taking before they were now shallow stutters, her chest rising and falling quickly. John turned off the monitors, he didn't want the buzzing to disturb this peace or wake Madeline. Within moments her breathing slowed, almost stopping until a shallow breath would overtake her small frame. Eventually her body stopped completely, the breath leaving her body, John took her pulse and she was gone. John let out a silent sob, leaving his daughter to sleep before cradling her in his arms and pressing the nurse's call button and leaving the room.

Lea sat in the same place as before, leaning in against the wall.

"She's gone." He said as he wiped the hair out of Maddy's face.

She nodded and John started walking away. Holding the little girl still undecided on where they were going to go. They couldn't go to the flat at least not right away, but where else could he take her. Harry's was out of the question, he hadn't spoken to Murray since he got back and Sherlock was his only other friend. He only had one option.

"I'm glad it was you." She said. "She told me that you get Maddy, I'm just, just glad it was you."

John never even questioned who would take her, he had just assumed. Sam never had parents, he didn't know what happened, didn't ask. She didn't have much a relationship with her sister, maybe that was something that brought them together. He and Harry had never been close, but at least he still cared for her.

"If you ever need anything or want to see her, just call me, it would be good for her to see you." He said, trying to hold his tears back.

She nodded and gave him a sad smile. "I will let you know about the funeral, and maybe tomorrow can sign all the papers." She said, sounding much more calm.

"Papers?"John said quizzically.

"I don't know, but I'm sure something needs to be signed." She said as she turned away. "Anyway, I'll let you know. She's all signed out, just take her home, she needs to sleep." Lea said coming closer. She kissed the sleeping girls forehead before going back into the hospital room.

Now John was left with his child, his motherless child, and he didn't know what to do. So he called the one person who knew everything.

"Sherlock, you were right. I need you."

* * *

A/N: So sad! Let me know what you think, because I work off the reviews! And just so you know I should have the next chapter up tomorrow, if not Monday for sure.


	5. Chapter 5

"Where are you?" Sherlock asked worriedly.

"I'm on my way home. Give me five minutes, maybe." John said, his voice rippled with exhaustion.

"Okay, I'll stay up." Sherlock replied as he looked at the time. It was nearing 4 am, which didn't bother Sherlock in the least, he hardly slept anyway. But he knew John would be tired, usually he was in bed by 10 or 11, unless they were up to better things.

John knew he was crazy, Sherlock would not be happy and this was not the ideal way break the news, but what else could he do? He needed to tell Sherlock tonight, he was out of time to play games. He knew what had to be done, he just hadn't quite found the wording. 'Uh ya, Sherlock, I've got a kid that I have been hiding for our whole relationship. Hope it's okay if she moves in.' Maybe if he added a smile that would work. Who was he kidding, he knew Sherlock would be upset, wouldn't he be upset if Sherlock was in his place. John had made such a big deal out of trust and now this, but at least he warned him...kinda.

Sherlock paced through the main room and then into the kitchen and back, before finally settling in the kitchen to make John a nice cup of camomile. Sherlock was so used to knowing everything, or at least enough to see the big picture. But John had kept his secret for so long and so well, Sherlock was blank. He didn't like not knowing things, but he couldn't just tie John to a chair and force the answers out of him...or could he? No he decided, but that might be some fun on a rainy day. Once he was done making the tea he was back to pacing, it helped him think.

Finally he heard the door gently open and John go up each stair very slowly, hesitantly even. John got to the flat door and took a deep breath, even though he wasn't inside yet, there was no turning back. He opened the door, Sherlock stood in front of him, leaning, about to embrace him as he saw the sleeping child in his arms. Sherlock took a few steps back, and then a few more.

Sherlock went to say something, but John just put his finger to his mouth and hushed him before he could wake the little girl. He carried her up to his room and laid her on the bed. Shit. He didn't have anything, he didn't have a cot, diapers, toys, let alone have the apartment baby proofed. He would go first thing in the morning he decided, not much he could do at this time of night and he still had to face Sherlock.

John climbed down the stairs from his room, almost silently, watching as Sherlock's imposing frame motioned toward him.

"Look Sherlock, before we start, just let me sit for a moment." He said, still trying to get his head together.

"No, whose child is that!? And why in God's name is she in our flat?" Sherlock asked angrily.

"Sherlock, don't be angry, I need you to understand."

"Understand what, you take off in the middle of the night and bring home a child like you would a stray dog!" John flinched at his words, it was like being hit in the stomach.

"Stop." John said sternly. "I can't explain anything if you keep talking." Just as he went to tell him his side, the both heard a wail from upstairs.

"Daddy! Dad!" The little girl cried. Almost immediately John was running up the stairs rushing to her. Sherlock understood, but he couldn't believe it, it was too ludicrous. John, his John, a father.

A few minutes later John came down the stairs and headed for the kitchen, leaving the detective in a rare stunned silence.

"She's hungry, but I don't think we have anything to give her." John said, rummaging through the fridge.

"John. Is that child yours?" Sherlock asked, he had to be sure.

For a moment John thought about lying, but then he realized that wouldn't do anyone any good. "Yes, she's my daughter."

"What's her name?" Sherlock asked quietly.

"What was that?"

"What is her name?" He asked again, enunciating every word carefully.

"Oh. Her name is Madeline Jane...Watson." He said, now looking at the man.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just couldn't face you. I know you don't want children and I didn't want you thinking less of me for being a father." He said somewhat defensively and somewhat remorsefully.

"You should have told me! Am I really so harsh that you would think I couldn't understand!?"

"It was some girl I met before my second tour, it was just a one night stand, I was nothing, it was supposed to be nothing, but then I came back and I had a child, and these nightmares, and then there was you. I wasn't going to wreck what we had by telling you something that shouldn't have mattered, and it didn't until this started and things changed." He gestured between them.

"Nothing has changed." Sherlock said defiantly.

"Just tonight everything has changed! I am a single father! I have a daughter who lost her mother and we don't even have food so I can feed her!" John said he slid into a chair. "Sherlock, how can I be a good father when I can't even pull myself together!?" He said with the tears he had been holding back sliding down his cheeks.

"John, you should have told me." The dark-haired man said standing up as he did.

"I know, I see that now." John said hiding his face.

"So, her mother is dead? Who was she?"

"I told you, a girl I met at a party, we were drunk, too drunk for anything good to happen. After Maddy was born we decided we should be friends, if for nothing else then for her." He said, not wanting to go into detail.

"I need to think. I can't think while your here, and you can't leave, so I will." Sherlock said as he left the flat, slamming the door as he went.

"Sherlock!" John called after him. But he didn't come back. John continued to search through the cupboards still coming up dry, he had meant to get groceries earlier in the day but he kept putting it off. Now he had literally nothing but water to give her, and he didn't even have a cup to put it in. Luckily she was still asleep, he just hoped she could hold on for a few hours until he could get her something substantial. John went into the bathroom, taking everything dangerous out of all the lower cabinets. Then he cleaned the bathroom so it was suitable for her.

Then he moved into the living room, moving the furniture so it was in front of all the sockets until he could get plug covers. He covered all the hard edges and picked up all of Sherlock's mysterious experiment related objects off the floor. He had found a knife with something sticky, cherry jello maybe? Hopefully. He did a thorough clean of the main room, taking his time, putting off going into the kitchen. The only part of the kitchen that was clean was the sink and that was because he just did the dishes. He was dreading what he would find behind the fridge and in the corner, he had tried to keep it clean but it was always hard when he lived with a continuous mess maker, well two now.

He was just moving onto the kitchen when he heard the door open.

"John?" He heard from the other room. Thank god. He came back, he had been gone for at least two hours and John had started to worry.

John rushed into the other room. Sherlock had laid three large white bags on the floor and was carrying more up from the landing.

"I'll need your help with the boxes." He said as he laid three more bags on the floor next to the others.

"What is all this?"John asked looking at Sherlock for answers.

"You said we had nothing, so I bought the things we would need." Sherlock said with a roll of his eyes.

"How? Everything is closed, its only 7 am!" He asked, still surprised.

"Mycroft." He said. Of course, he had called his brother.

"Why?" John asked as he rummaged through a couple of the bags, finding clothes, cups, food, diapers. What had he done? Raided a baby store?

"Because, I don't want you to leave me. I need you and if this is what it takes to keep you, I'll do it." He said. "Now, I have a cot, a stroller, a carseat and a few other things, but they are quite awkward to carry alone."

John stood up and kissed him, finding comfort in the warmth of his lips, finding peace in the roaming of his hands, and finding happiness in his smile.

"So this was alright? I wasn't sure if you would be upset with me for leaving the way I did." Sherlock said, looking at his shoes.

"It's perfect, you are perfect." John said pulling the taller man into an embrace, holding his tightly.

Sherlock held him as he started to sob, he had never been good with emotion but he could decipher that he needed comfort, so that's what he would provide. That's how he would spend the next days, giving John and his daughter what they needed.

* * *

Suddenly he heard the little girl crying, and he didn't know what to do. John grabbed a spoon and a couple of jars of the baby food he had bought and rushed upstairs. Sherlock pushed open the door, and saw the little girl sitting up and John feeding her what looked to be some sort of mashed vegetables. John was so caring, gently scooping the food out of the small jar as the little girl hummed and played John's keys. She did seem sweet for a child, but Sherlock would have to see.

Seeing Sherlock out of the corner of his eyes, obviously taking in the little girl, deducting. "Maddy darling, this is Sherlock. He is very special." He said as the little girl looked up at the dark-haired man. "Can you say hello?"

"He'o" She said as she continued to play with the keys.

Sherlock inched closer, worried about any sudden movements, not wanting to startle the child.

"Sherlock, come here, it's okay." He said trying to get him to sit with them.

"Can I touch her?" Sherlock asked, still holding back.

"Of course, just be gentle." He said with a giggle.

Sherlock brushed her arm with the back of his hand, feeling her soft skin. He played with her curls, letting them bounce back into shape. He looked at the size of her feet and hands, watching her smile as her tickled he toes. She was small, probably small for her age, Sherlock assumed she was probably 13-16 months old, but couldn't be sure.

"Daddy?" She asked.

"Yes?" He said, trying to scrape out the last of the baby food.

"Where mum?"

"Oh." He sighed, he thought he would have more time before he had to explain this.

"She isn't here anymore, but your Daddy will take care of you." Sherlock said, surprisingly delicately.

"Mum gone? No byes." She said with a frown growing on her little face.

"I know honey, you didn't get to say goodbye." He said, hugging her as she started to cry.

This was harder than he thought it would be, how do you explain death to a child who is still learning to speak? He wouldn't. He would just tell her she was gone, when she was older he would explain, explain everything. Until then he could just tell her how much she was loved.

He lifted her until he was cradling her, rocking her in his arms, calming her with every stroke. He didn't know what to do, he had never taken her for more than a few hours, he wasnt sure if this was how she was normally or if this was different, he wasn't sure how to be her full time dad.

Sherlock left the room silently, coming back a few moments later with a change of clothes, diapers, wipes, and some toys. She cheered up when she saw the teddy bear he held in his arms, reaching for it. He passed it to her, leaving the rest of the items on the bed.

John looked at her dirty clothes, still wearing the ones from the crash. The baby food smeared over her face only adding to her messy appearance.

"I think you need a bath, sweetheart." Hearing the word bath, she perked up, excitement lighting her eyes.

"A bath?!" She asked cheerfully.

John took that as a yes. He brought the supplies down to the bath room, gathering up soap and a towel as well. He started the tub running warm water and started to take off her clothes. He took the pink bow out of her hair and put it by the sink and the stripped off her shit and pants, throwing them into the laundry. He plopped her into the bath, surprised to discover how much she liked the water. He watched as she splashed spraying bubbles around her. He grabbed a cup and started to wet her hair, pour the water over her head, being careful of her eyes. He lathered up the shampoo and worked it through her hair.

"Bubbles!" She giggled, smiling as they floated around her.

After he rinsed her hair, he wrapped a long towel around her as she started to shiver.

"Are you cold?" He asked

"Yes, I cold." She said, pulling up the blanket around her as he kissed he cheek and she giggled. "No daddy, no tickles." She said putting her hand up to stop him, which only made her giggle more.

"John! John!" Sherlock called.

John and Maddy rushed to the living room only to find Sherlock sitting in a circle, surrounded by screws and bits of wood.

"What?" He asked.

"I'm done with this, it is impossible to put together and my mind has more important things to do. Put Madeline down and do this." Sherlock said, removing himself from the center of his circle.

"Sherlock, I need to go get her ready for the day, I can't just stop to put a crib together."

"Fine give Madeline to me and I will go get her dressed." Sherlock said as he opened his arms.

"No, knowing you she will come down dressed in a suit and a trench coat!" He said, laughing off the suggestion.

"Do you think they make children's trench coats?" Sherlock asked, deep in thought, as he whipped out his phone to see what he could find.

"I don't know. But I do know what you will be doing while I get her dressed, putting that together." He said as he gestured to the large piles.

"But John, I don't want to." He whined, looking at him.

"Too bad, we will be back." John said.

"Bye bye, Sherbrock" Maddy said as she leaned over his shoulder and gave Sherlock a wave goodbye.

John dressed her in a pair of small jeans and a shirt that seemed just a smidge to big, adding socks and a sweater for warmth. It wasn't until he saw Maddy attempt to wipe the curls from her face that he realized he had no idea how to do her hair. He grabbed his brush off of the dresser and swiped at her crazy hair that had just started to dry.

"Ow daddy. Ow!" She said as she tried to pull away. After a few tries, John gave up, grabbing a headband from one of the bags and placing it on her head. John had to admit he was pretty pleased with the job he had done.

* * *

John and Maddy came down the stairs to find a young man around twenty-five, with dark hair, assembling the cot while Sherlock sat in his chair on his phone.

"Great news John, they do, in fact, make trench coats for children, I ordered two for Madeline, I didn't know what size she would be so I just bought one of each." Sherlock said as he tapped away.

"Sherlock, who is this?!" He asked, pointing to the strange man in their flat.

"I'm Tom." He said in an unexpectedly deep voice.

"Oh, that's Tom. He's one of Mycroft's men, he was just following me anyway, so I decided to put him to use." Sherlock said, not even looking up.

"The people you brother gives you as security should not be used as crib assembly personnel."

"Why not? He wasn't doing anything of importance." Sherlock tried to reason.

"And ordering tiny trench coats is important?" He asked with a smirk. "Anyway, I guess while Tom is here he can continue, but only because I know it won't get done otherwise. Can you watch Maddy? I need to take a shower." He asked as he handed the little girl he was carrying off to Sherlock's lap.

"Ah John, I don't know if I feel comfortable with this." Sherlock said, his voice wary.

"It's okay, Tom's here and I'll be just down the hall if you need me." John said as he walked down the hall towards the bathroom.

Sherlock looked down at Madeline whose wide eyes stared back at him. He was both curious and terrified at the same time. What if he broke her? She was so small and delicate, it seemed like a real possibility. He then looked at Tom, who seemed quite happy to continue working on the crib as he been before, which left Sherlock holding the little girl who had started blowing spit bubbles. He put down his phone and picked up the child, holding her out in front of him like a sample of bubonic plague. He placed her beside Tom and gave her the teddy he had offered earlier, before running into his bedroom.

After ten minutes of Maddy screeching he left the bathroom, now clean but still unshaven, with a towel around his waist. He came out to see Tom trying his best to soothe her and Sherlock no where to be found.

"Can you shut her up! I am trying to think and I can't very well do that, with a baby screaming less than twenty feet away." Sherlock yelled in response to the crying.

"It helps if you walk with her." He said as he handed him as sippy cup filled with apple juice. Within moments the crying had stopped and John's headache had gone away.

John walked down to Sherlock's room and tapped on the door, before just opening it anyway. He went in and sat on the bed next to Sherlock.

"Sherlock." John started.

"John. I need quiet, otherwise how am I supposed to do any work?" Sherlock asked, his voice twanged with frustration.

"What's wrong?" John asked, slowly petting his arm.

"John, I can't do this! I cannot be a father. She can stay but please do not expect me to parent her. My feelings on children are unchanged, and if you expect me to take care of her and put up with spit bubbles, you are sorely mistaken." Sherlock stated with finality.

"I don't expect any of that. I know who you are, I don't automatically think that because I told you about my daughter, you are just going to love her straight off and raise her as your own." John said.

"Then why did you leave her with me?" He asked, quite puzzled.

"Because I needed a shower, I was starting to smell like one of your experiments. I just, I thought you could handle her for fifteen minutes while I got cleaned up."

"Well, please do not do that again, I felt very unqualified for such a situation."

John giggled at the awkwardness of his words. "Okay, I won't." He said as he kissed his cheek and went to stand up as Sherlock grabbed the tail end of the towel the covered him from the waist down, pulling it off completely.

John blushed as he grabbed for the towel, snatching it away and tying it back arou d his waist."Tom and Maddy are right down the hall! I am not having sex with you while your brothers spy awaits." He said laughing at Sherlock's attempt.

"Why do you insist on calling her Maddy?" Sherlock asked as John went to leave.

"Because that's her name?"

"No her name is Madeline, it is the name her mother gave her, is it really so hard to say an extra syllable?"

"Yes!" John said as he stuck out his tongue and left the room.

* * *

A/N: So that's all for the night, seeing as I'm tired and it is late. I hope you guys liked how Sherlock responded to the news. And now down to the real question, will Tom be staying? No I'm just kidding, maybe he will make a guest apperance or something now and again just to keep you all on your toes ;) Good night!


	6. Chapter 6

Overall Sherlock had been adjusting to Maddy's presence well, he just ignored her most the time unless he was measuring her growth or she was crying. Sherlock had taken to measuring her height and weight twice a week, why, John didn't know, but that is what he had done. That was the only time he ever really interacted with her other than that he let her play under his feet and couldn't be bothered by what she did the rest of the time. Every now and again, Sherlock would ask a question about what she was wearing or what she was up to but it never seemed like he cared, it was as if he was asking for John's benefit alone.

John on the other hand was having a hard time getting used to being a full-time father, he loved it, but it was harder than he had expected. It seemed like he never had a moment to just sit, except when Mrs. Hudson took Maddy for an afternoon every now and again. Mrs. Hudson absolutely adored the little girl, constantly coddling and cuddling her. John also thought she like the idea of beating Mrs. Turner to the punch. But John was okay with that, Maddy deserved to be shown off. Molly and Lestrade had both taken kindly to her as well, with Molly offering to babysit and Lestrade showing her picture around the office like a trophy. Maddy was definitely well-loved, always having the attention of everyone in a room.

Even though it had only been two weeks since her mother's death, she cried a little less every night. It had been Sherlock's idea to bring her things from home, so John went and picked through toys, blankets, and other things she might want to have as she got older. He took a couple of hand-made baby blankets and a couple he knew were her favorites. He gathered up the doll he had given her and a couple of other stuffed animals he knew Sam had given her. Also making sure to put a couple of photo albums and a few framed photo's of her in the box for their daughter. Soon after he knew Lea would have the apartment cleared so he also took some of her old clothes from the closet and a sweater of Sam's that her scent still lingered on. After John was content that he had everything he would need, he left, locking the door behind him.

Sherlock had been right of course, having things from home had made her significantly calmer. But she was still having a hard time sleeping and Sam's death seemed to retrigger some of his lingering nightmares, so needless to say he wasn't sleeping much either. He felt like he was sleep walking almost every waking minute. He would lay down and drift away only to be waken an hour or two later, dripping in sweat and gripping the sheets, Maddy would be crying and he would end up awake the rest of the night. Sherlock hadn't slept in his bed since he discovered John's secret. He couldn't stand her crying and couldn't comfort John through his terrors, so he avoided the situation as a whole. John missed him, even though he hadn't left the flat in days, it felt like he was never really there.

* * *

John looked towards his closet and looked back at Maddy and then back at the closet. He pulled out his one and only suit, plain black. He only had one tie to go with his one suit, again plain black. He took his suit and laid it out on his bed, scratching his head as he stared at it. Maddy was still sleeping as he went for a shower, looking at himself in the mirror. He was a mess. He had dark circles under his eyes, his hair stuck up in every direction, and he had a few days of growth along his jaw line. His body was still toned and muscular even though he hadn't been to the gym in a year at least, probably longer. Though he was starting to pudge a little, running through the streets with Sherlock had kept him in pretty good shape.

He brushed his teeth as he let the shower warm up, before stepping in and letting the warm water wash over him, taking his troubles with it as it flowed into the drain. Once he was clean, he stepped out, and just stood there, feeling as if all the life had been taken from him, leaving him an empty shell. It was like the only time he felt anything was when looking at Maddy. He had realized a few days in that it wasn't just the loss he felt by Sam's death that was effecting him, they had never really been close, the only thing holding them together had been the daughter they shared. The real cause of his emotional distress was Sherlock, he hadn't touched him, looked at him, or kissed him since he brought Maddy home. Everything had been at John's initiation, the only time Sherlock ever made even a suggestion of anything was when he pulled John's towel off, and even that was almost two weeks ago.

He walked toward his room and heard Maddy stir and start to cry. Great, he thought as he opened the door and smiled at her, even in her worst moments she was adorable. She was standing up in her cot, her face red and hair in her eyes.

"Dad!" She cried as her hands reached towards him.

"It's okay, Honey, I'm here now." He said as he lifted her and sat down in the rocking chair that they had installed in the corner of the room.

He rocked as he rubbed her back, humming some soothing song he didn't really know the words to. Soon, she was quite calm, her head laying against his shoulder. He had picked up a simple black dress for her, seeing as she didn't have any other black clothing, mostly just pinks and purples. Once he had her changed and fed, he started on her hair. Her curls which he once admired were now his hated enemy, she still looked cute as a button, but there was so little he could do to keep them out her eyes, and everything he tried fell apart, ponytails simply fell out of her hair, clips hurt her head, and pins just wouldn't stay. So he brushed her hair and put a black headband over them, hoping to make them stay put. Soon they were both dressed and ready to go.

Sam's funeral wasn't until noon, so it still gave them some time to get there, but he was truly dreading it. Seeing all of her family, whom he had never met in the first place. Trying to comfort them, when he knew so little about her. Then Maddy would most likely be passed around like a rag doll. But he had to take his daughter to her mothers funeral, how could he not. He had never known his parents and even though Maddy probably wouldn't remember her, he had to take her. He knew he would feel guilty if he didn't. They left promptly at eleven, the diaper bag packed and ready to go, they headed off to the cemetery.

* * *

It was cold, even though it was well into april, there was a definite chill on the air as the wind rushed by. He had put on Maddy's pink winter jacket but only grabbed a light jacket for himself, hoping he would be fine with that, he wasn't, he was cold. Maddy was grumpy, would cry at almost everything, John could just tell that it was going to be a bad day right from the off. They were almost late despite leaving early and by the time they got there, it was just starting. The funeral was in an old stoney church that sat out in the countryside, very peaceful.

The slid in and took a seat near the back, Lea went up and talked for a bit about her sister, talked about how good she was, how sweet, and how much she loved her daughter. Then a couple of Sam's friends talked on similar points, one of them even singing a song, she had done pretty well or so John thought. Luckily Maddy slept through most of it so he wasnt particularly concerned with her making a fuss.

When it ended John saw a few people head his way, inluding his old friend Murray.

"Hey Bill." He said, standing up to give him a proper hug.

"Hey John, how's it going?" He asked as they broke their embrace.

"Uh, ya, you know. It's going." He said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It must be hard, eh? How did your flatemate take it?"

John took a second to think. "Well he never knew Sam so he wasn't too upset."

"No I meant about Maddy moving in, that can't be easy. Especially when you live with...with Sherlock." Bill had only met him once and lets just say it didn't go over well. John vaugly recalled there being a severed head on the table and something about a jellyfish.

"Oh that, um ya. He's taking it fine, he's not there much and when he is, he doesn't really notice her." He replied, looking at his well dressed friend and wondering how he paled in comparison.

"How could he not notice her, she's adorable!" He said, pointing to the sleeping toddler.

"Ya she is." He sighed, she really was.

"How's the surgery going?" He asked.

"I don't really know, I haven't been since all this." He said.

"Oh, no?" Bill asked, definitely surprised.

"Hey, we should get going. But call me we should go out for a pint, and soon!" He said patting him on the back before grabbing the diaper bag and his daughter.

"Ya, I'll call you." He said as he went to chat with a couple of other people he had recognized.

* * *

Once he had dragged them both home, he was exhausted, it was only two and Maddy was up from her nap. John managed to lug her into her playpen, before flopping onto the couch and attempting to sleep. He tried for a good hour while Maddy played, but no luck. His mind just wouldn't take a break it was rambling on and on about Maddy, Sherlock, the surgery, everything. After he gave up on sleeping there was a knock on the door. John debated whether or not to answer before deciding it was better just to get it.

John opened the door and Mrs. Hudson was there, holding a tray of biscuits.

"Oh hello, I'm glad you were here, I brought these for you and Sherlock." She said, offering them to him. "And hello Pumpkin!" She said as she moved toward the play pen.

"Hi, and thanks." John said wearily, as he rubbed his eyes.

"Oh dear you do not look well, off to bed!" She said as she shooed him upstairs.

"What about Maddy?"

"I'll take Maddy, don't you worry about that. Now scoot." She said as she picked up the little girl and took her downstairs.

John could hear Mrs. H talking and giggling with the little girl beneath him as he headed up the stairs, lazily lifting each leg at a crawling pace. He didn't even nother changing out his suit, it would need to be dry cleaned anyway so he wasn't too worried. He laid his head on the pillow his mind was empty, allowing it to be filled with sleep and nothing else.

He slept soundly, not a nightmare in sight for the first time in a long while. When he woke up and looked at his clock it was blank, just zeros flashing. He could tell it was night as he worked his way out of the bed, his muscles protesting in every way. Even though his body was sore his mind was running, for the first time in weeks he was fully regenerated. He took off his suit and hung the wrinkled fabric back on the hanger it came from, leaving his tie and cuff links on the dresser. He opted for a grey t-shirt and blue pajama pants, seeing as it was most likely the middle of the night and he had little to do the next day.

Out of the blue he heard Sherlock, playing his violin, it must have been something new because he had never heard it before. It was beautiful, it was soft, sweet, and slow. He slowly crept down the stairs to see Maddy fast asleep on the couch, while Sherlock stood at the window, violin in hand. John went up behind him and wrapped his arms around the taller man's waist.

"I didn't wake you did I?" Sherlock asked as he ran the bow over the strings, eliciting a beautiful sound.

"No, I was already awake." He said, as Sherlock turned to face him. "What was that you were playing?"

"Um. It was a lullaby." The deep baritone responded. "Madeline's to be exact."

John felt his heart skip a beat and butterflies rise in his stomach. Sherlock had written his daughter a lullaby?

"She was upset, so Mrs. Hudson brought her up. She was obviously tired, but I didn't want to wake you up. So I played her a lullaby. " He said as he put his violin back in its case.

John kissed him, reaching his hands up to his face and bringing him down to an accessible level. For the first time since he brought Maddy home, Sherlock reciprocated, moving his lips in time with John's, letting his hands roam over John's firm body.

John peeled away, moving toward the couch. He picked up the sweet child gently, hoping not to wake her, he brought her upstairs and stripped her of both the dress and the headband and laid her in the cot in nothing but a nappy. He covered her with a light blanket before leaving the room and shutting the door as quietly as he could.

Sherlock was sitting on the couch, unmoving. So John went and curled into his slender frame, feeling his warmth against his skin.

"John, I'm sorry." He said as he ran his fingers through John's golden hair.

"What for?"

"For not supporting you, I realize that was, uncaring, on my part." He said, pausing as if to word the next bit carefully. "I love you, and I have come to find, I also have sentimental feelings toward your daughter. Unfortunately I am unused to these emotions so I don't always understand how to react to them. But please understand, I am trying." He said almost roboticly.

"I could never ask any more of you. The fact that you are still here, is proof to me that you love me, and I know that you don't always find it easy to love, but you can trust that I will always accept any kind of love you will offer."

"Thank you." Sherlock said, holding John in his lap, where they stayed until morning, laughing, chatting, talking as if nothing had ever happened. It was nice to know that Sherlock had let the little girl with red curls into his heart. It let john know where they stood, let him know that their relationship hadn't changed as much as he had thought, and let him know that he was still loved.

* * *

A/N: Wow I'm on a roll three chapter in three days! For anyone reading Trying Times, I am still updating, I know it's been forever, but I'm working on it! If anyone has any questions, feel free to ask, or leave a review.

I hope you guys are liking the way I am writing it, I'm not to sure where it's going to go yet, but I should have the next chapter up by tomorrow! (fingers crossed.) So anywho, toodle loo!


	7. Chapter 7

Sorry! I know this chapter took me a while to update, but I have been ridiculously busy in my real life! So I added some smut near the end and redemption, hopefully it was worth the wait! ;)

I haven't had a chance to edit or spellcheck this yet, but I decided not to delay it anymore, I promise to edit it really soon, pinky swear.

* * *

Throughout the week, Madeline's lullaby, became a common sound around the flat with Sherlock composing and recording it continuously. He had had a few minor cases, but just things he could solve quickly, whether it be by looking at a picture of the crime scene or examining a body. He was getting frustrated now though, it had been over two week without anything higher than maybe a four, Sherlock had a case of cabin fever.

Sherlock was eating less, sleeping less, just in general doing less. It was starting to scare John, he knew that Sherlock was almost always malnurished, but this was edging on starvation. His cheek bones were looking sharper than usual and on the rare occasion he was choosing to shower, John could almost see his hip bones, as for his ribs, well they were always there. Being a doctor John knew what Sherlocks body was doing, eating away what ever it could, starting with fat and then on muscle, being a scientist, Sherlock knew it too.

John tried to get him to eat whenever he could whether it be a biscut with tea or a bit of pasta from his takeaway, John seriously tried. But what could he do, Sherlock was a grown, though slightly immature man, and despite what others may think, John didn't have that kind of power over him.

As far as he knew, no one knew about their romantic relationship, they had been hiding it quite well, or so he thought, many people still asked and still assumed, though both John and Sherlock had stopped denying it, neither had actually confirmed it. John was fairly sure Mycroft already knew, but was just deciding to keep it to himself. Really when he thought about it, with the frequency he had them tailed, how could he not. Heck, Tom had been in their apartment only a few weeks ago, if he heard anything, he was sure to tell Mycroft.

* * *

Sherlock was sitting in his chair while Maddy played with some blocks on the floor. She was so smart, everyday she learned something new, especially with the crazy books Sherlock had started to read to her. The other day John had come out of the kitchen, and found him reading her a book on recently discovered tribes in the amazon. Luckily she was picking up more of John's traits than Sherlock's.

John sat down on the floor next to Maddy, he still wasn't sleeping well but he was getting more adjusted, as was the little girl, she was almost sleeping through the night again and she was more used to the flat. John had discovered a park just over one street and he had already found a play school for when he went back to the surgery. They were all starting to settle into the crazy life that had become their routine.

"Dad, play!" She squealed, rolling some of the bright coloured blocks in his direction. "Sherbrock is play?" She asked as she looked toward John, then at Sherlock and back at John.

"Oh honey..." John went to say as saw Sherlock put his book down, and (surprisingly) leave his chair to join them on floor. John just gaped as he saw Sherlock maneuver his ridiculously long legs into a somewhat natural position.

"Oh shut up, John, It's not that ludicrous to see me playing with a child." Sherlock said rolling his eyes.

"No. Mean Sherbrock." Maddy said, standing up, taking full advantage of her height.

"Yes Sherlock, that wasn't very nice, and not something we want Maddy here, catching on to."

"Fine, all apologies." He said with a dramatic twirl of his hand. Watching carefully as she sat back down and continued playing.

"And more to the point I didn't actually say anything and it was just shocking, that's all." John said passing a yellow and blue brick to the little girl.

"Just because you weren't there, it doesn't mean that I didn't have a childhood." Sherlock said, as sarcastically as he could.

John just looked at Sherlock and tried to think about him as a child, his dark curls falling in the same ways Maddy's did, him and Mycroft growing up, even what his parents were like. John had never met his parents and from the little he and Mycroft said about them, he wasn't sure he wanted to.

"You're right, I guess it's not to crazy to think about you as a child, strange, but not crazy." John said with a laugh.

The continued in quiet for a bit, with only Maddy's giggles to interrupt their thoughts. Every now and again, John would sneak a glance at Sherlock when he thought he wouldn't notice, but of course he did. But John didn't mind, he just wanted the chance to take him in, his long, slender frame, his mind always wrapped around a puzzle of one sort or another. John always thought his most beautiful attribute was his mind, even if he was an absolute git most of the time. Most people would say his face was his most beautiful thing about him, but most people didn't know the real Sherlock Holmes. They didn't see the smile in his eyes, or the kindness that resided in his heart, or even the loved ones he held dear. This was the Sherlock that was reserved for the people he cared for most.

John knew this version of Sherlock, the Sherlock who wasn't angry when he found out about Maddy, the Sherlock who loved John for the man he was, even with his imperfections, the Sherlock who was sitting on the floor with his legs crossed, playing with his daughter. This is what John had come to see as the real Sherlock. Nothing like the papers or tabloids portrayed him, not the freak the officers at the yard thought he was, he definitely wasn't boring. He was the most interesting man John had ever met. John smiled as he saw Sherlock's eyes light up as the tall tower of blocks fell, crashing to the ground.

Instinctively, John leaned over so he was on his hands and knees, and kissed the great detective, forward and with a passion. John was surprised when Sherlock pulled him into his lap and continued the kiss, his hands roaming over his back.

"Ew! Daddy!" Maddy sqealed, making a sqaushed face at the sight of them.

Almost immediately they were pulled apart and John had a big grin on his face, while Sherlock looked mortified.

"Does Maddy want kisses?" John said, his hands now reaching at the little girl.

"No Daddy!" She giggled as John took her in his lap and smooshed sloppy kisses onto her cheeks.

"Sherbrock! Help!" She said trying to get away while still giggling.

"No you are mine now!" John said still tickling the little girl.

Suddenly Sherlock was standing and walking away. He was almost at his bedroom door when he heard a small voice behing him.

"Sherbrock, is you leaving?" The little girl as she tugged on he curls.

"Yes, but just for a little while. I'll be back before you know it." He said, smiling the saddest smile John had ever seen.

The little girl wandered over to her father and sat in his lap. She ran her fingers over his, moving along the lines of his scarred hands.

"Dad, Sherbrock is sad?" She asked quietly.

"I think he just might be." John replied holding her close as she moved up his arms.

"Why he not happy?" She continued.

"I don't know sweety, sometimes people are sad for no reason at all." He said kissing his lips to her cheek. He knew there was a reason behind Sherlock's unhappiness, but he couldn't think of a single one that warranted him getting up and leaving. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, I don't like Sherbrock sad." She said as she picked up a block from the floor.

"I know, I don't like it when he is sad either." John said, his mind moving onto other thoughts. "Why don't we go and get him some ice cream, maybe that will cheer him up." John said, moving the little girl off his lap so he could stand up.

"Ice cream, Daddy?" Ice cream!" The little girl sang as John put on her shoes and coat. Maddy was always so happy, always singing or dancing or smiling or all of the above. Even as the left the flat, she was singing all the way down the stairs.

* * *

Both Maddy and John were gone when Sherlock finally peeked out of his door. He had wondered where they had gone, but only for a minute. He couldn't help but be grateful for the silence, even if it was only for a little while. It seemed like there was always noise, whether it be inside or outside his own mind. The only times there was silence around him was either at night or when everyone was gone, that was why he had started sleeping even less than normal, he just needed a rest from the commotion that was constantly running in his head.

He had never found much of an escape, the two things that had kept him sane before John were drugs and sex, but he couldn't exactly use those forms of release now, without hurting John and he knew that. Unless he could somehow seduce John. But was it too soon? It was a question Sherlock had been struggling with for sometime, when would be the right time to reignite the relationship between them.

He couldn't be sure of anything with John. He understood motives, he understood emotions, he understood human interactions, but he didn't understand his relationships. He could deduct any person in his life, but he didn't know how to show them his love. He didn't want to scare John off before they had cemented anything. John was the most important person in his life, both platonically and romantically. Before John he was a mind and an empty shell, just waiting for something to take hold of him, now he was so much more. He was happier and his mind felt lighter as if it wasn't just his load to bear.

Within moments he heard the door open and shut, as well as footsteps headed up the stairs to John's room. Sherlock was soon out of his room and following the footsteps upstairs, like a lost puppy. When he made it to John's room, Maddy was already asleep in her cot and he was just laying on the bed with one hand behind his head.

"Hey." John said casually as Sherlock laid down beside him. "Are you alright?"

Sherlock looked the doctor over, analyzing and observing every bit of him. From his light blonde hair and his sky blue eyes to his muscular build and strong arms. John was wearing Sherlock's sweater which was obviously tight in some places and a bit too long for his shorter frame, with a pair of his favorite slacks. It was nothing special, but to Sherlock, he couldn't look more tempting.

Suddely Sherlock was on top of him, kissing him. Not a peck but a deep strong kiss that could only be compared to their first kiss. John was soon kissing back and rutting against him. It seemed like both of them had been waiting for this for far too long. John rolled them so he was on top of the taller man, in control. He quickly was stripped of the sweater when he realized that Maddy was still in the room.

"We can't do this here, I can't have sex with you when my daughter is right there." John said, leaving his hands resting on Sherlock's still covered chest.

"Ok, my room then, or the kitchen, or the living room, or the shower, anywhere you chose." Sherlock said as he caressed John's arm.

"Uh, right, okay, your room, I'll just grab somethings and meet you there, give me a moment." He said as he quietly climbed off the bed.

"Alright, don't keep me waiting." Sherlock said as he disappeared down the stairs.

* * *

John hadn't meant to keep him waiting for so long, he had meant to change quickly, grab the lube and race down. But for some reason the lube wasn't in its usual place, so he had to grab the spare they kept in the bathroom. Then when he went to change into his plushy robe, it wasn't there, so he ended up wearing a thin silky one of Sherlock's which seemed uncomfortably smooth against his bare skin. By the time he had actually made it to the other man's bedroom, he had been quite a while.

Sherlock had removed his clothes, piece by peice, carfully folding each article before laying it on his wardrobe and sitting down on his bed naked. But sitting like that made him feel over exposed, immodest even. So he grabbed a navy dressing gown off the hook and put that on at least there wouldn't be much to take off. While he waited he adjusted and readjusted and then he sat on the bed, and then laid down, bfore finally chosing a positon in the middle, almost a lounge. Had John changed his mind, he wondered. Just as he moved to go and find out where he had run off too, John opened the door.

Sherlock was both surprised and delighted to see him wearing another piece of his clothing. He smiled up at his solider as John moved in closer.

"Ah, sorry about this." He said, motioning to the slinky black dressing gown.

"No, it is fine." Sherlock said as pictures of John in various positions ran through his head.

John climbed onto Sherlock's high bed and resumed kissing him, rolling his finges down his arms. They melded together perfectly, as if they were both cast from the same mold. Sherlock slid his fingers under the dark silk, tugging it off John's shoulder, before he undid the loose tie at his waist.

His robe went on the floor, quickly followed by Sherlock's, leaving them both naked and on top of each other. As the kissed, John rutted his already hard cock against his lovers leg, leaving his hands to fondle any part of Sherlock they could find. John wiggled as he tried to find a better position until finally he was between Sherlock's legs.

"John, please!" He begged.

John quickly grabbed the lube from it's new home on the bedside table, and squeezed some onto his fingers. When he turned back, Sherlock already had his legs in the air and was ready and open. His first finger slid in easily past the knuckle, so he added another which made Sherlock moan. He moved his fingers in and out scissoring them as he went. Sherlocks whines only spurred him on to a third finger.

"No, I want you." He growled.

"Are you sure?" John asked.

Sherlock just rolled his eyes in response as if the question was completely off base. John ran his slicked fingers over his own erection, moaning as he finally felt the friction he had been craving, before he finally pushed in and felt Sherlock's warm heat embrace him. He could hardly stand the few mandatory seconds he had had to wait for him to adjust before he started thrusting in and out. Soon Sherlock was letting his own long fingers wrap around his growing shaft as John moved within him.

This is what they had both been waiting so patiently for and wanting for so long. Seeing John panting and watching as beads of sweat formed along his brow made Sherlock mad with temptation. He pulled on John's bronzed shoulders until he was close enough to use his lips and tongue in more than one pleasurable way.

"Oh god!" John muttered through a breathless whisp.

It was apparent that Sherlock felt the same way, as he rolled his hips and scratched along John's forearms. Withing moments Sherlock cried out in ectascy, climaxing as he tried to quiet his screams. Soon John was coming as well, leaning down and kissing Sherlock as he felt the toght coil in his belly release.

John flopped down beside his sticky mess of a lover and gently played with the few chest hairs that hadn't been singed off in some experiment involving one or many blowtorches.

"That was.." Sherlock breathed, still coming down from his high.

"And about time too!" John joked as he planted a kiss on his thin lips.

Sherlock stood up, quickly rummaging through a drawer of pj's.

"What are you up to?" He asked curiously.

"I am about to take a shower and I assumed if I wanted your company, I should at least find you a change of clothes so you don't have to go upstairs." He said as he flung pieces of clothing over his shoulder.

"You mean, I can sleep here tonight? " John asked, his heart a lit with hope.

"Of course, you git. I have been trying to get you into my bed (unsuccessfully) for a solid month now, you don't think I'm going to let you leave, do you?" Sherlock asked, with a mischievous gin playing out across his face.

John just smiled as he rose from the bed, took Sherlock's hand, and tugged him toward the bathroom, knowing full well what was about to happen next. Sherlock followed obediently, giving up on his search for proper pants for his John and taking up a better plan of action. Soon the door was shut and the water running, and that was just the way they wanted it.


	8. Chapter 8

"You're going crazy!" John said as he continued to read his paper.

"I can assure you, my sanity should not be in question. " Sherlock replied, very seriously. "Honestly, it would be just for a few days and I would be completely safe."

"Sherlock, you are not going undercover in a drug house! Hell, I'm not going to let you relapse over a case, especially a five!" He said as he just shook his head.

"You are completely overreacting, I wouldn't be using."

John rolled his eyes. He must have been going mad, if he thought John would let him within a 10 foot radius of anything like that.

"We both know as soon as you get around any kind of drug, you can't be trusted not to use." He said knowing his weaknesses. "You are very lucky I'm not calling Mycroft right now, you know he would be having a conniption if he heard about this."

"Well, he is an idiot! What do I care of he has a tantrum." Sherlock said, crossing his arms across his chest.

"You care because his tantrums are the ones that end with you in rehab, again!" John said, now standing, his hands flailing as if he had no control of his arms.

"I need you to trust me on this John." He pleaded.

"No, I can't, not on this. Does Lestrade know this is your master plan? Because I don't think he would be happy about this either." John said as his eyebrows pinched together. "We all love you Sherlock, and this is a bad idea. "

"Well, really you don't have much of a say, you can't just lock me in here forever!"

"Listen to me Sherlock Holmes, this is going to far, you can't do this." John said, his voice going from raised to almost a whisper. "I'm not going to allow you to risk your well being over a small jewelry theft, that you can solve in a hundred different ways, none of which put you in danger."

Sherlock pursed his lips and stared at John for what seemed like an eternity before finally speaking up. "Fine. I see your point, but I still think going undercover would be better." John knew he was mostly denying all the obvious flaws in his plan, just so he didn't have to apologize.

"Now, was that really worth the fight?" John asked.

"Probably not but I cannot be sure without significant evidence." He said as he walked into the kitchen and grabbed a test tube.

John peeked upstairs, watching Maddy sleep, making sure they hadn't woken her from her nap early. He crept back down carefully, before curling up on the couch next to Sherlock. Sherlock was busy reading some thick volume, while looking at a clear liquid in a vile. John rested his head on the tall mans shoulder as he flipped through pictures on his phone. There were a thousands of pictures of Maddy and Sherlock doing various things, only interrupted occasionally by a photo of a crime scene or something along the lines of. Almost all the clips made John smile, whether it be Maddy playing in the floor or Sherlock rolling his eyes, there was always something to make him grin. John wilfully started to moved his way up to kiss Sherlock's neck with a fever. Laying small kisses into his collarbone and around the back of his neck. Suddenly Sherlock stiffened, holding himself rigid.

Sherlock cleared his throat and laughed quietly as Lestrade briefly knocked before he burst into the flat. John quickly repositioned himself as Greg worked through what he had just walked into. He just stood there with his mouth gaping as his finger flicked between both of them, letting his eyes follow. John adjusted his jumper, only looking at the floor while Sherlock looked him straight in the eye, gauging his reaction. Neither could hold in their giggles as the DI flopped into Sherlock's chair.

"I'll make us a nice cuppa, give me a sec." John said as he padded his way to the kitchen, turning a bright shade of red as he did.

The detective and the DI sat still, both staring each other down until Greg burst into laughter. Starting at a giggle and working his way to a full belly laugh.

"What is so funny?" Sherlock asked.

"You two! How long, how long have you been..." He asked, his fit of laughter settling down.

"Uh, since before Maddy, so um.." John started as he handed Greg a large blue mug, still slightly uncomfortable.

"Its been ten months, almost to the day." Sherlock said, sounding annoyed by how long it took John to calculate that.

"That brilliant!" Greg said as he smacked his hands together. "That means I win the bet!" He said a little giggle resurfacing. He looked actually gleefully as he sipped his tea.

"What bet?" John asked, though it came out more stern than he had hoped.

"When you two would get together. I had seven to nine months in, Mrs.H had said you were a couple from the off, Molly said never, Mycroft gave it a year, even a couple of the guys at the yard are in on it, but they weren't even close. So that makes me the winner!"

"You mean to tell us, you were all betting on our relationship? Even Mycroft was in on it!?" John accused.

"He's the one who started it up, said we needed a bit of fun in our lives." Greg said, still smirking. Soon Sherlock's mouth was turning up at the corners as well. Why was John the only one who was upset by them betting on if he could get Sherlock into bed?

"Sherlock, why are you happy about this?" John asked, once again flailing his hands.

"Well, if you must know, that day that I kissed you, it was because I figured out that they had this little game going and I didn't want my fat git of a brother to win, well that and it got me wondering how satisfactory you would be." Sherlock said with his grin still dancing on his face.

On the other hand, John's face fell, the hurt playing out in his eyes. "So you're saying it was all a sham?" John asked, forgetting Lestrade was even there.

"No just that god awful first kiss. The second one and all the ones after were completely real." Sherlock said, stepping closer to the blonde before pulling him into his long arms.

"Okay, but I'm still not impressed, by either of you." He said, breaking out of the embrace and pointing fingers at both of them. "Hey, Greg, did you know that Sherlock was planning on staying at a drug house for the weekend?" He said as he sat down, waiting for Greg to take his side and lay into his old companion.

"Well actually, that's why I am here, we had a break in the case. We might in fact need him to do just that." Lestrade said as he put his hands in his lap. "And John before you take a bite out of me, I am not happy about it either."

"Why does it have to be him!? Why can't another officer go?" He asked, realizing the conversation wasn't going the way he planned.

"You know why John, because he is the best."

Sherlock was beaming at the idea of getting his own way, just the prospect of it was thrilling. It seemed like everyone but Sherlock realized what a horrible idea this was.

"Fine, you do what you want. But I want you to think about how awful rehab was last time, and remember that if you so much as think about using, I'll put you back in for the full three weeks this time." John said, speaking directly to Sherlock, knowing how much he hated being in a place that made his mind rot.

"John rehabilitation will not be necessary, as I will not be using. I will be observing and analyzing, not muddying my mind with narcotics." He said, over poetically.

Now it was John's turn to roll his eyes, Sherlock Holmes, ever the drama queen. Why could he not get it through his thick skull that he was still human? That he still had temptations and weaknesses? He never denied having them but John knew even though he didn't acknowledge them, that he didn't believe they applied to him. He believed that he was above his humanity, and everyone else at that, except maybe John, John could be his exception.

Lestrade just watched as the scene played out before him. Watched, awed that someone dared to question Sherlock's greatness and wasn't getting screamed at, in fact Sherlock was just waiting there, like a child waiting to be scolded, sitting on his hands.

"This is a very bad...no, this has to be into the top ten worst decisions you have ever made, with one of the first being using drugs in the first place. If you do this...I will...I don't even know, but something not good will come out of this. There's only a few ways this can end and I don't like any of them."

"John, look at me." Sherlock said gently. "I will not use, I promise you."

"You don't believe in promises." John retorted, emotion cracking through his voice.

"But I do believe in keeping my word." He said as he finally left his chair and enveloped John in a second embrace. Sherlock lifted John's face so it was no longer on his shoulder and kissed him, his lips strong and unforgiving, John couldn't help but feel his knees go weak.

Lestrade coughed, intentionally breaking up an exchange the was quickly be coming too private for his liking.

"Anyway..."He said as both the other men sat back down. "It looks like there's more to this theft then we originally thought, through the drug connection we have found that it might also be linked to multiple human trafficking rings here in London and around the UK.

"Well isn't that just lovely, maybe you can get yourself auctioned off at a good price, while you're at it." John said as he threw his hands into the air.

"John, you know that's not how it works, they aren't going to snatch me up and sell me, London is just a..a..shipping port for women and children from other countries, easily accessible countries, countries where the people are poor, countries where people go missing everyday, people that no one will look for." Sherlock said as he started to rummage through a medium sized brown case. Every now again, throwing small items out of the case. John was pretty sure he had seen at least one pair of socks and a paperback fly to the side.

"So you are saying there is no chance, at all, that you will be kidnapped and sold." John said slightly annoyed.

"Not even a slight chance of that happening." Sherlock replied, still focused on the case.

"Just so you know, nothing you say will convince me that this is a good idea." John said as he stood up and started gathering up the mugs from their tea. "Greg, is there anyway that you two can solve this without him doing this?"

"Honestly, John, no I don't think there is, no way that let us infiltrate the drug scene, the human trafficking circle, and will hopefully let us catch the thieves." He said.

John rubbed his forehead, seriously looking like he was in pain. The skin that usually laid flat on his face, was now crinkled, making John seem much older than he was. John was really an old man in a young man's body. He ws so wise, and critical, and ready to take on anyone in his way.

"I don't care what you do, I'm going to go take a nap, just let me know when you wrap up all the details." John said, obviously unhappy and already walking up the stairs.

Once he was gone, the two men resumed talk of their plans. "I think he might be upset with me." Sherlock said, as he started to think about the problem again.

"You think?" Greg repeated sarcastically. "Of course he's upset with you, you are putting you life and well-being in danger."

"Why should that upset him? It's my life and my body." Sherlock reasoned.

"You really don't understand, do you? He loves you. He is worried about you. He is upset at the idea that something might harm you, does that help? "

"Yes a bit. I might feel the same if I was in his place." Sherlock conceded.

"So then you see where he is coming from, if you insist on doing this, you had better be careful. If anything happens to you, I don't think John would ever forgive me." Greg said, giving him a cautious glare. "And God help me if you use, I will never let you work a case again. John doesn't deserve that." He added as he picked up his coat that had been left lazily over the arm of the chair.

"I will give you some time to think it over, call me in the morning when you have made a decision. " Greg said as he left the flat, leaving Sherlock to contemplate what his next move would be.

Sherlock didn't understand what all the fuss was about, it was simply going undercover, something both him and John had done numerous times without any repercussions. Why would this time have to be any different? Just because he had a history with drug abuse, that didn't mean that the first needle he found he was going to stab into his arm. He didn't want to go back to that part of his past anymore than John wanted him to. Overall he was happy with how his life was, why would he want to risk losing the only people he actually cared for.

Once Sherlock had made his final decision, it was already dark, although he hadn't felt particularly inclined to turn on a light. He didn't mind the darkness, it helped him think better, made his thoughts easier to organize. In the dark he could move the files and things he stored away in his mind palace from one corner to the other. Tonight, he was reorganizing everything on John, changing certain things over from one file to another or deleting them all together. John had changed so much since they first met, when they first met, John was a lonely, depressed, traumatized, ex-army medic. Now he was strong, confident, well-loved, and happy.

Sherlock could not keep treating him like he was the same man that he had met at Bart's that cloudy afternoon, because he was so much more now. He was the only person Sherlock could trust completely, he was the bravest man he had ever met, he was also the most loving and caring. John was so complicated, he was his everything. If he ever lost John...no he wouldn't allow himself to think that way, life would be nearly unbearable without him. Now he understood why John was so against this. But that wouldn't deter him. He knew what he would need to do to solve this case.

Sherlock crept up the stairs, quietly, as to not wake Maddy or John. He crawled into John's bed, only slightly jostling the bed as he slid underneath the thick blankets.

"Mmm, finally." John mumbled as he curled into Sherlock's warm body.

"Are you angry with me?" Sherlock whispered as he played with the golden strands that made up John's hair.

"I'm not angry, but I am upset. Sherlock, this is a very dangerous case and I don't want to lose you." He said into the other man's chest.

"I, I understand that now. But I can't just give up, especially now I know of all the lives involved." He said as he kissed the top of his doctor's head.

"Sherlock, I get that you need to finish the case, but what about me? What about us?" John said, knowing how selfish he sounded. "It's just to me, you and Maddy are my whole life. Nothing to me is more important."

Sherlock's eyebrows forced together as he thought about what John was saying. "Yes, you are the most important thing to me as well, but I see very little risk in taking on this case."

"It involves you going into a drug house, being around who knows what kind of people and the inserting yourself in the middle of a human trafficking scheme. How is that not dangerous?"

"I have done all that before and come out almost completely unscathed, well except for the human trafficking bit, but I can figure that all out I'm sure."

John just shook his head. How could the most brilliant man he knew be so...dumb for lack of a better word. After a few moments of silence John finally spoke again.

"I love you, and I am letting you decide this for yourself, I don't want to fight with you anymore. Let's go to sleep, and then I can be mad at you in the morning." John said as he rolled over, letting Sherlock be the big spoon.

Sherlock ran his fingers along the small of his back, his other arm holding him close. He smelled like summer, with tea and honey. His smell was sweet and kind. John's scent lulled him into a deep sleep as well as any lullaby or glass of warm milk ever could. He put all thoughts aside till morning, leaving his mind almost blank. He laid there, thinking of only John until his mind went dark.

* * *

A/N: So a new case is looming, exciting. Tell me what you guys think! I hope you guys like it but it's hard to know. Anywho, toodle loo!


	9. Chapter 9

They had all agreed it would be best if Sherlock eased his way into the criminal family that was running the drug operations, by pretending to be a strung out uni student, which for Sherlock wouldn't be too hard. He barely weighed anything at all, looked practically sixteen, and had the all over sullenness of a teenager at that.

Together, Sherlock and John had been scouting out the new area and the house for any clues or helpful little tidbits they could find. Plus, it made John feel helpful with the case, which set his mind slightly more at ease. At least now he knew approximately where he would be, and what kinds of situations he might be getting himself into. The neighborhood wasn't as horrible as John had originally thought it would be, in fact it was quite suburban. There were neatly trimmed lawns, eco friendly vehicles, and even a few kids playing off to the side. But under all the suburban dream laid some dark secrets. Women and children locked in basements, meth labs in the garage, and somewhere certainly, a few shallow graves. It looked like a place John could see himself living. John tried not to think about that as he packed Sherlock a small bag. Even though, there was still a few days before Sherlock left, John thought he should get a head start. For the most part the bag was packed with socks, underwear, a few books, nothing of substance. But he was trying to look like a broken student after all.

"John, I do not need you packing my bag, as if I am incapable." Sherlock said as he walked into the room.

"If I left it up to you, all you would have is two volumes of some obscure medical text and a microscope." John said with a laugh.

"I am completely competent, I did live a significant portion of my life with out you." Sherlock said as he peered into the mirror.

"And look how that went." John said as he moved over and wrapped his arms around his small waist. "I'm going to miss you." He said, pressing a kiss into his shoulder.

Sherlock flipped around and grabbed one of his favorite ratty pj shirts off of the dresser and handed it to him. "I read that familiar smells can help with separation and the feeling of loss in infants. This shirt should smell enough of me to be sufficient."

John looked at him and blinked a few times, feeling slightly insulted and slightly aroused. "I think this may be one of, if not the sweetest thing you have ever done for me."

"Why do you say that? I am just making sure you are adequately prepared for my departure. As are you by packing my bag." Sherlock said as he resumed what he had been doing before.

"Yes, but it's not what you did, it's the fact that you did it, you crazy man." John said as he followed him.

"I don't understand, so it's not the actions I preformed that impressed you, it's the motive behind them?" Sherlock said looking puzzled.

"See, you understand perfectly. When you do things like this, it shows your love." He said holding the shirt as evidence.

"So when Mrs . Hudson gives me one of those god awful sweaters..." Sherlock said, pausing.

"You say thank you, because it shows how much she cares for you." John said as he sniffed the grey, holey, t-shirt. It did smell like Sherlock, like dusty books, black coffee, and a twinge of cigarette smoke.

Sherlock quickly walked to the closet and pulled out one of John's old jumpers. It had been a favorite until it got too worn to wear except around the flat. "May I take this?" Sherlock asked cautiously.

John's reply wasn't hesitant, he toed over and kissed the tall detective. He moved his lips quickly and harshly. He ran his hands under Sherlock's button down, undoing buttons as he went, feeling the ridges of his abdomen, rising and falling under his fingers.

Sherlock pulled away for a breath. "This is our ninth kiss this morning, you have touched me over thirty times, and you are constantly staring at me. Are you alright?" He asked as he pulled John away from his chest.

"I'm fine, it's just, if I'm not going to get to see you for awhile, I want as much of you as I can get." John said as he pecked in another kiss, lingering just a bit to long on his lips.

"I really don't think it will take me that long to dismantle the operation. I will only be away for a few weeks and then I can do the rest from home. Plus I will be able to text you, when possible. Maybe even call." Sherlock said as he rebuttoned his shirt.

"You do realize this will be our longest separation, ever. Since we met we have only ever spent a few nights apart." He said nervously playing with his hands.

"Yes, I realized that last night." Sherlock stated, as he wandered about the room, picking up this and that before putting it in the small duffel.

"And? Any emotion or sentiment to go along with that?" John asked, annoyance running through his voice as he rolled his eyes.

"John, honestly. You are turning this into a much bigger issue than it is or needs to be." He said, frustration rampant in his tone.

"So you don't feel anything? Seriously?!" He asked, his voice getting louder.

"Not about this, no. It might as well be a holiday. I don't see why you are making such a fuss." Sherlock said, in his most serious voice.

"We have been through this. Because I love you! Because I am worried about you!" John said, trying to get through to him.

"Well then, stop. You don't need to worry about me, I will be fine." Sherlock reasoned.

John put his hands on his head. Why couldn't Sherlock understand that he couldn't just flip his love on and off like a switch. Maybe he was just going about this the wrong way.

"What if I was going back to Afghanistan? What if you knew I would be on the front lines, everyday, and there was nothing you could do to protect me. How would you feel?" John asked, trying to appeal to his empathetic side.

"That's a moot point, won't happen." He said, refusing to answer.

"It could, Sherlock, if my therapist ever clears me for active duty I could have to go back for a third tour. You know that's a possibility, one we don't like to think about, but it's still there." John said, finally acknowledging the thought that had been lingering in the back of their minds for a while.

"That's more of an if than a reality. If your therapist did clear you, I would just convince Mycroft to use what pull..."

"No. We are not bringing your brother into this! If I get called back, I will go. If they called me back, that would mean they need me. I signed up for a possible four tours, that was my choice." John said, definitely getting sidetracked from the original argument.

"But everything has changed since you joined the army. You are no longer a struggling young man, with no family to speak of, who had nothing to lose. You have me now and what about Madeline? Would you really risk letting her be an orphan because you have some foolish delusion of responsibility and obligation to a country that continually lets you down?" Sherlock asked, holding back the urge to hit him, if for nothing else to knock some sense into him.

"Sherlock, don't you ever use my daughter against me. I always think about what's best for her." John said very sternly, with a finger pointed in his direction.

"Well, you need to see reason! The risk completely outweighs any benefits. I don't understand why you can't see that for yourself!" Sherlock said, moving his hands in large gestures.

"No. You are never allowed to use my daughter as leverage. This doesn't even have anything to do with her." John said, now almost yelling.

"It has everything to do with her! You are her father! You should know better than anyone why it's ridiculous to risk your life when you have a child. If you were to die, where would she go? To Lea? To Harry? You think being raised by your irresponsible alcoholic of a sister is in her best interest?! We know how well it went with you." Sherlock screamed.

That was when he felt John's knuckles connect with his cheek. Hard and fast, leaving him no time to react. He looked at John, hurt in his eyes and shock on his face.

"You know very well who she would go to."John said as he shook out his hand and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

"Goddammit Sherlock!" He yelled from the living room.

Sherlock was left standing in awe with his face stinging. The skin over his left cheek burned as he reached his fingers up to test the damage. No blood, but there would most likely be a very dark bruise under his eye for the next while, if not a black eye as well.

John was furious. He was livid and wild with anger. How did they go from fine to fighting so quickly. He was supposed to be the one mad at Sherlock, hell, he still was. But Sherlock had no right to be angry with him. Just as he started to replay what had just transpired, Sherlock walked into the living room

"John. You are not allowed to risk your life." Sherlock said, his cheek already turning bright red.

"But you are?!" John scoffed.

"I am doing this for the greater good, by solving this case, I will hopefully save hundreds of lives." He said, desperately trying to stay calm.

"What do you think I do in Afghanistan? Sit around drinking tea?" John said, still furious.

"I understand what you do, but you can save lives right here, you don't need to be in a battlefield." He said as he moved cautiously toward the army doctor.

"Ya? When was the last time I even was at the surgery? It's been months! How is that saving lives?!" John asked, flailing his hands in the air.

"You don't have to be doctoring to be saving lives. Without you I wouldn't be standing here." He said, memories of cases past flashed before him, the cabbie at the forefront being the first. The first case, first meeting, and the first time John saved his life.

John was silent. Obviously they had both been saved at one time or another by the other person, but he had never really thought about it as saving his life. He always figured that if he hadn't shown up, Sherlock would be able to wriggle his way out somehow. But really this was the first time since they had met that Sherlock was working a case alone. Maybe that was why John was so on edge, he wouldn't be there to protect him if anything went wrong.

"I need you. Without you, I'm nothing." Sherlock said, trying to get him to understand.

"Well, now you know how I feel about you taking on this stupid case." John replied, not looking at him. He knew if he looked at him again and saw the bruise he put there staring back at him, he would give up the whole argument. He hated when he lost his temper, it hadn't happened often since he left the army, but every now again, he just couldn't hold it back. Really Sherlock shouldn't have said what he did, but that definitely didn't put John in the right.

"Then come with me." Sherlock said, cupping John's face in his hands.

"I can't go with you. What about Maddy?" He asked.

"Mrs. Hudson." he answered simply.

"What happens if we get hurt?"

"We won't." He said as he kissed the shorter man, proving all had been forgiven, and that maybe (for once) instead of John taking care of Sherlock, it would be the other way around.


	10. Chapter 10

"What do you mean, no?" Sherlock asked as he slammed his cup down.

"Sherlock, I can't leave Maddy, it seemed like a good idea at first, but there's too many things that could go wrong. Like if one or both of us gets hurt, Maddy gets sick...I just can't put her in danger. I promised Sam." John said calmly.

"Well who gives a damn about a promise to a dead woman!? And together we could solve this so much quicker." He complained.

"You were going to work it before alone, why does this change anything?" John asked.

"If you didn't want to, you should have just told me so." Sherlock replied as he crossed his arms like an angry child.

"I want to, but I can't, I can't risk my daughter's safety. You said it yourself, I need to think about her first." John said, using his own words against him.

"Yes, well, I said that to help me win an argument, not to help you." He huffed.

John finished off the last overly sweet sip of tea before he started speaking again. "That's ridiculous, now stop this, you are acting like a child."

"I'll stop when you stop acting like my parent." He said.

"One of us have to be the adult here, and it's not going to be you!" John laughed. "Honestly, Maddy is more mature than you on most occasions!"

"That's not true." He said as he flopped into his chair and eyed the little girl next to him, calmly sitting on floor, looking up at him. "It's not!"

She just giggle in response to his melodramatic tone. Sherlock sulked as he sunk deeper into his chair, his face growing impossibly long as it did.

"Seriously, you need to grow up. You can't just huff and puff, and think that you are going to get your way." John said as he rounded the corner from the kitchen. "By the way, I was thinking about starting up at the surgery again, while you are away." He continued, hoping to change the topic.

"Why?" Sherlock asked indifferently, still pouting.

"I don't know. It's been a while, and I think it will keep my mind off things. Mrs. Hudson said she would watch Maddy until I can find another day home or a nanny." He said, almost smiling at the thought of having something to do other than change nappies and fix booboos...well, at least not Maddy's.

"That's unfair. To both myself and to your daughter. You can't be actually considering this." Sherlock said, still pouting.

"Ya well, maybe it's something I want to do. And who said life was fair?" John asked, realizing how cliché he sounded.

"Shut up, John." He said.

Just as he went to speak, he was met by a strongly raised finger and a stern scowl being added to Sherlock's expression. John tilted his head, hoping it would help him hear better...it didn't.

Sherlock raised one finger, then two, indicating two people, he soon added three more.

"Who?" John mouthed. His eyes flashing to his room, where his safe held his gun.

Sherlock saw John's eyes move, he shook his head, before an irritated snarl overtook his face. "Knocking is much more effective, brother dear."

Mycroft soon opened the green door and revealed himself, his assistant, and three of his henchmen. "Yes, but breaking it down is so much more fun." Mycroft said with an eerie grin.

"Mycroft, you have met Maddy." Sherlock said, waving in the child's direction.

"Mmmm, briefly. Hello John, it has been a while." Mycroft continued.

"Ya, I don't believe you have kidnapped me since, oh what, Christmas...no definitely New Years." John replied, before quickly correcting himself.

"It was January fifth, John, the fifth." Sherlock said in a stern tone as if repeating it would help.

"Not all of us have your memory, Sherlock. " John said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, interrupt a domestic did we?" Mycroft laughed.

"Is there a reason for you and your goons to be here?" Sherlock asked, looking around.

John glanced over the crowd that seemed crushed into their small flat, noticing Tom standing toward the back, obviously feeling awkward.

"Why yes, actually. I heard that your latest case will involve some...questionable activity." He said as he prodded and rolled his umbrella's end into their hardwood floors,

"Not unlike all the other cases I have worked." Sherlock stated as he rolled his eyes for effect.

"Oh brother, if only you knew the troubles I go through, trying to keep you safe and out of trouble."

"Well your interest and concerns are unnecessary. "

"But think of how Daddy would feel if he were to catch wind of this." Mycroft grinned as he tilted his head down.

"Mycroft." Sherlock growled. "You wouldn't dare."

"Oh wouldn't I?" He asked.

John leaned down and scooped Maddy off the rug, plopping her into his lap as he sat down. She brought her cubby little arms up and wrapped them around his neck, giving him a quick peck.

"Daddy? Who that is?" She asked.

"That is Sherlock's brother and all his friends." He said pointing toward Mycroft.

"Sherbrock brohmer?" She asked.

"Yes."

"I no like him. He make Sherbrock mad." She whispered into his ear, making John giggle. John smiled at his daughter, taking his turn for a kiss.

Sherlock grinned, knowing the child was on his side. It was nice to have someone look at him the way Madeline did, always smiling and looking at him like he was the most caring person in the world.

"No matter, you should probably be leaving. You are a busy man, Mycroft. What with running the world and all." Sherlock said as he stood up and almost pushed him out the door.

"Just remember what I said." Mycroft finished, taking his leave and waving goodbye.

Sherlock was content again once Mycroft left. Having him there made him feel like a trapped puppy, scared, angry, defensive, and a bit too whiny.

John held Maddy close, cuddling her and rubbing her back. It was almost time for her nap but he didn't want to put her down all hyper. He smiled as she curled her head into the crook of his neck. He could tell she was tired but he knew if he put her down now she would never sleep.

The silence since Mycroft left had been deafening, with only tension in the air. Sherlock sat, gripping the armrests of his chair in...anger? frustrating? grief? John saw the effect Mycroft had on his younger brother. It was almost always upsetting.

"Sherlock, Love?" John asked as he reached out his open hand and placed it overtop of Sherlock's.

"Mmm?" Sherlock answered absently.

"Would you play Madeline her lullaby? I think it would be just the thing to put her to sleep." John said, knowing the music soothed him.

Sherlock didn't reply, he just stood from his chair and headed towards the violin case that was neatly leaned against the wall. The care he took removing the instrument from it's holding, was breath taking. He ran his finger along the carefully varnished wood. Gently plucked each string, checking the tune. All before raising it to his arm, taking his bow, and playing the most beautiful songs John had ever heard.

John listened and said a silent thank you as Maddy drifted of into a dream, still resting against his chest. Sherlock continued to play, the lullaby constantly morphing and changing into another beautiful version of its carefully crafted self. John stood up cautiously, making sure not to disturb either Maddy, who he was still carrying, or Sherlock who was off in a world of his own making.

It wasn't until he put Maddy down that he realized the music had stopped. Sherlock crept up behind him and wrapped his unusually long arms around his strong man and kissed his neck. He knew all of John's sensitive parts and places, he knew exactly how to make his knees go weak.

"Would it be alright, if we just...cuddled?" Sherlock whispered, still holding onto him as if, at any moment, he would flee.

John turned, kissed him on the cheek, and led him to his bed. He knew Sherlock prefered to be the big spoon but this time he decided Sherlock could be the little spoon. Once Sherlock had laid down, John curled into him behind, holding him and gently kissing and exposed flesh he could reach. Sherlock was still, too still, unusually still. Even when he was in his mind palace, he still moved here and there. After a while John used the guise of brushing his neck to check his pulse. His heart was still beating and he was still breathing but he was a statued version of himself.

"Sherlock?" John whispered.

"Yes?"

"What's the matter?" He asked as he played with Sherlock's dark curls. He had always assumed his hair was black, but in this light it definitely seemed more like a dark dark brown.

"I...I..um." Sherlock stumbled.

"It's fine if you don't want to talk about it. You can tell me when you are ready." John said, resting his head on Sherlock's slender shoulder.

"Remember when you said you had secrets, and I told you I had plenty of my own. Well, Mycroft is one of my secrets." He said, still unmoving.

"What do you mean?" John asked, worriedly.

"When I was young, my parents always favored Mycroft. Everything he did was golden and I was just a tag along trying to catch up. My father hated to dole out punishments, so when he did, they were always very harsh, brutally so. He was "heavy handed" as he would later put it...but really...broken bones, black bruises, and slashes were being a little more than heavy handed." Sherlock stumbled and pause as he recanted his nightmare of a childhood, leaving John is shock.

"No one stopped him?" John asked, quietly.

"No." He said, almost whispered. He didn't talk for a time after that, but John was content to sit in silence, listening to Maddy breath.

"When I was fourteen, he kicked me out and told my mother I had runaway. I had no money, no food, no shelter or clothes. So I stole, using my skills and talents to scam and work money off of others. I fell into drugs shortly after. Then when I was eighteen he found me in a drug house, near death, barely a hundred pounds with track marks covering my arms. He apologized, but it was not sincere. He claims to have seen the errors in his ways but I still don't trust him." He finished, going from still to almost shaking.

"What happened after he found you?" John asked.

"Rehab, four to be exact, I kept escaping or insulting the nurses, so I kept being moved. After the fourth one I was deemed a loss cause, so being an adult they let me leave of my own will. I went back to the streets, stopped using drugs...well for the most part. I became a detective, using my talent for deduction to help me along. Eventually my trust or at least a portion of it was released to me, that helped me for quite a few years. I am hoping sometime soon Mycroft will deem me worthy of the rest." He finished, wiping away what John would call tears.

John kissed his shoulder and ran his fingers down his back, pulling him in as close as possible. Showing him how loved he truly was.

"I deem you worthy." John whispered into his back.

"Of what? I am unworthy of everything. Of you, of Maddy, of your love. I am so unworthy." He said, his voice cracking.

"You are worthy of everything. You are caring, loving, kind, intelligent, you are everything I could ever want you to be and more."

"I am also mean, and cruel, harsh, strange. John I am a disaster. I can't take care of you, I can't even help support Maddy."

"Stop, shut up. I don't ever want you to talk that way. You are amazing. That's where it stops. You need to stop this, you deserve everything you have. I don't need you to take care of me or support me, I just need you to be here. I love you and as long as I have you, I will be the luckiest man in the world." He said sternly.

They stayed like that for a while, until John fell asleep. Sherlock rolled out his arms and onto his side, looking at his John. His beautiful, amazing, loving John. This man who could carry the world on his shoulder and still be smiling. The afternoon sun peered in through the blinds, laying on John in strips of light. Making his blond hair look golden, his tanned skin like bronze, and his toned body look like that of a god.

Sherlock ran his fingers along his jaw, being careful not to wake him. He wanted to catalog every piece of John his curves, his scars, his every inch. He wanted to store him away, keep him just for himself, keep him safe. John was his. That was something he still couldn't reconcile with in his head. In his mind, there was no way John would ever chose him of all people to share his life with. If he was anything less than incredible maybe, but that was not the case.

John once asked him how he felt about Maddy, he had said that he cared for her and felt "sentiment", he now realized it was love, all along. She was a part of John, both genetically and mentally. She was a part of his soul. Any one who saw them together would instantly be able to tell he was her father, she had his eyes to a tee. Even her face shape and the way she held herself were like John. The only difference was her firey red curls in comparison to his straight blonde locks.

The realization hit Sherlock like a train. He finally had the family he had always wanted. He had never really thought he would have children seeing as he was the way he was, but yet there was Maddy, laying in her cot. Before her he would have never imagined the love of a child could be so powerful. It was like a slap in the face when John first told him he had a daughter, now he could not be more ecstatic about John's history of one night stands.

Though this love didn't take away his fears or the nightmares, but it did relieve some of the pressure. He still worried that he would become like his father, or that John would realize he wasn't the person he believed him to be and leave, or that somehow they would be torn apart. To Sherlock, none of these options were acceptable.

"Love? Why are you still awake?" John croaked as his eyes fluttered open.

"Thinking." Sherlock whispered.

"Stop, sleep." John said as he brought Sherlock back to his arms and held him close. "Shhh. Think later." He said as he drifted back to sleep


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: So I am apologizing in advance, I know I have been dragging out the start of the case for a ridiculously long time, but it starts next chapter. I promise. I just had to figure out how I was going to write it and now I have done that. Though that being said some things might conflict with earlier things written, but I tried to keep that at a minimum. So if something doesn't make sense, ya, my bad. Hopefully you guys like this, it's got a bit of fluff, a bit of smut, and a bit of story, so bits and bobbles. So enjoy!

* * *

"John! John!" Sherlock said running into their bedroom. John was still asleep from their afternoon nap, despite it being past midnight. He had his legs tangled in the sheets and his arm under the pillow, he looked so perfectly ordinary, he looked so peaceful. It was a shame to wake him, but it needed to be done.

"What?" He grumbled, just starting to stir.

"I have figured out the ultimate solution! I don't even have to go undercover! Or at the very least you can come along." He said almost jumping with excitement.

"Okay, okay, I'm up. What are you talking about?" John asked, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"It's the Harrow family! Do you know what this means?" Sherlock asked, smiling ear to ear.

"Uh, no." John said. He had never even heard the name, let alone know what it had to do with anything. He didn't even know what he was going on about. "Anyway, let's take this downstairs before we wake Maddy."

"Oh she's already awake, she's the one who helped me make the connection. We have a very smart little girl on our hands." Sherlock said as he sat next to John on the bed.

"She's not even two yet, Sherlock. And before you ask, no, you can't experiment on her.." John laughed as he finally felt himself starting to wake up.

"Doesn't matter, I have the solution!" He squealed.

"Okay, take a breath. Now, explain." John said, placing his hand on his shoulder.

Sherlock took a deep breath, before continuing. "The Harrows, they run the drug ring, and everything that goes along with it."

"And? Who are they?" He asked.

"They are siblings, three brothers, one sister. They are significant members of the upper class, old money, John." He said, squirming.

"How is that the solution?" He asked, feeling like an idiot.

"I could never have gotten close to the upper levels of the ring pretending to be a strung out junkie, they would have never allowed it, too dangerous. Now, the Holmes family, as estranged from society as we are, we still come from old money. Mycroft is often invited to dinners, tea parties, regattas, and the like. With this, I will be able to infiltrate the ring right at it's source, the Harrow family. With your help that is." He explained.

"I think I get it, so you want to go undercover as yourself?" John asked, quizzically.

"Yes, well a kinder, less curious version of myself." He said. "That's where you come in. The Harrow family will be obviously wary of Mycroft and I, due to our chosen professions. Though they most likely will accept my husband, myself, and our lovely daughter into their social circle, provided you are your charming self." Sherlock said, explaining his idea more fully.

"So you want us three to go play house with a whole bunch of rich folks? How do you know they will let us into their 'social circle', as you put it?" John asked, curiously.

"Maria, the youngest of the four and her husband have two children, both around Madeline's age, one son age three and a daughter age one. Play dates, it's brilliant. And you have been saying Maddy needs more friends her own age." Sherlock said, smiling at his own brilliance.

"Not with children who have drug dealers and human traffickers as parents." John said sarcastically.

"Oh they are perfectly safe, they keep their personal life far away from the family businesses, they wouldn't want a scandal now, bad for business. And from what I hear, their children are perfectly suitable."

"This does sound much safer than you running around homeless on the streets of London with drugs all around, but I'm still not sure. How do you know that they won't have us figured out the moment we walk in the door?" John asked, with a million more questions running through his head.

"Because they value their social standing far too much to do something as rude as to turn down an invitation to a social gathering, and they are curious, very few people in the upper class know myself or Mycroft, they will probably view us as assets to add to their collection. One decorated army doctor and one slightly strange detective with askew morals and ethics, a history with drug abuse, who just happens to be the brother of the man that runs the British government " Sherlock said, adding a bit of humour to the situation.

John thought about it, long and hard. It would keep Sherlock safe, while putting Maddy and himself in very little danger, if any. It would give Sherlock a better opportunity to investigate the innermost workings of their operations, and Maddy might finally make a friend. Sherlock was right (as always), it was a much superior plan than anything they had come up with previously.

"Well, let me think on it, I will let you know. Wait, where's Maddy?" John asked still groggy.

"I told you she's downstairs in her playpen." Sherlock said rolling his eyes.

"Hey, I'm the one that's half asleep here." He laughed, moving to get out of bed. "You are sitting on my sheet." He said as he tried to pull it from underneath him.

"And?" Sherlock rumbled.

"I can't get up if you are holding me down." He said with a smile.

"Maybe I don't want you to." He growled, moving in to kiss his neck. John leaned into the touch, before turning his head and reciprocating the gesture. John moved his lips to Sherlock's, gently pushing them apart as his tongue darted in. He could feel Sherlock's hands starting to roam, running over his fingers over his chest and back.

Sherlock moved his legs so he was straddling him, pinning him down to the bed. He used his hands to hold John's wrists above his head, and used his mouth to kiss the exposed skin of his neck. John moaned, clearly falling into temptation. Sherlock could feel him starting to buck underneath him, his arousal very noticeable as it grinded against his leg.

"God, Sherlock!" John whined, trying to break the hold he had on his wrists. But Sherlock had too much leverage on him and could easily keep him held down, even with John squirming underneath him. Sherlock could feel his blood being redirected south at the sight of John writhing underneath him. He loved to see John helpless against him, giving himself over to his power.

Sherlock could feel a moan rising in he chest as he rubbed himself against John, his erection aching to be released. As soon as he released his hands, John's fingers immediately found the waistband of his silk pajama pants and got to work stripping him of them.

He moaned as John pulled his pants down to his ankles, taking his underwear with them, and moaned again when he removed his own. John was the most beautiful man, no person, he had ever seen. Wearing just a grey army T-shirt that had started to ride up around his stomach. His glorious toned stomach. How could anyone find him anything less than incredible?

John tried to stop the whine that was building up in his throat, but he couldn't. He was desperate. Desperate for his lovers touch, for his kiss, for anything and everything he would surrender to him. "Please. Touch me." He breathed.

Sherlock laid a few feather light touches on John's stiff cock, just enough to drive him mad. He writhed under the sensation. John pulled him down, bringing his lips in close. He kissed him with a fire as he grinded against him. Feeling the pressure of his erection against his own was enough to drive him crazy. Sherlock had an expression made of pure desire and want plastered on his face as he worked his way to John's groin. He relished and savoured the heat coming off of him as he nuzzled into John's thigh. He laid tiny soft kisses into his base, making John squirm with every touch.

"Sherlock! I need you." He panted, moving towards him. "Please! Sherlock, please!" He begged.

Once Sherlock was satisfied with what he had done, he started to grind their hips together, finally feeling that delightful friction he had been craving. He leaned all his weight on his knees and into the bed. He wrapped one hand around both of them and moved the other so his long wirey fingers were at the tips. He raked his fingers across them, making John shudder at the much needed touch. Soon John's hand was at the other side, moving in time with him, leaving only strips of skin exposed. Together, they built themself to the edge. John could feel a tightening building in his stomach, only making him want Sherlock that much more. He was the first to go, spraying come all over Sherlock's bare chest and stomach.

Watching him release was beautiful, the way he shook and called out his name, the way his eyes drifted close, even the way he sighed with contentment when he was finished. This was always his favorite part, watching the effect he had on John, watching the responses he could elicit. There were so many things he wanted to try, wanted to catalog, things he wanted to experience, it seemed like there would never be enough time.

Once he had seen John climax it was only a matter of time before he climaxed as well. It only took one or two strokes before he came all over John's T-shirt. His grey shirt was quickly covered in pearly white strands.

"God." John breathed as his took off his soiled shirt as Sherlock fell beside him and onto the bed.

"Atheist, John." Sherlock said as he rolled over to kiss his lover.

"We should definitely try that again." John smiled, prying his lips away. "But for right now, I think I'm in need of a good shower. Maybe after we can plan out this whole "play date" idea."

"I don't see why you feel the need to plan everything." Sherlock laughed as John grabbed his towel off of the hook.

"I don't see why you don't. Every time we wing it, everything falls apart." He said as he put a pair of boxers on and then a dressing gown over top. "Can you watch Maddy while I'm in the shower?"

"Of course, John. I'm not completely incapable." Sherlock said, rolling his eyes.

"I believe you have told me otherwise." John said, giving him a quick peck before going down the stairs.

Sherlock shot him an incredulous look before standing up and watching him go. Even though John didn't see the look, he knew it was there, he always knew.

* * *

When John stepped out of the shower, he could hear giggles coming from down the hall. When he wiped off the mirror, he could hear a hushed conversation. And when he opened the door, all he could hear was silence. As he wandered down the hallway, he could he little whispers only interrupted by Maddy's high pitched laughter.

"What are you two up to?" John asked as he came upon the two trouble makers.

Sherlock was now (surprisingly) clean, in a new pair of pajamas and sitting on the floor with Maddy in his lap.

"Daddy!" Maddy squealed as she ran towards him.

"Yes, sweetheart?" He said smiling, lifting her off the floor and into his arms.

"No'ing daddy." She said, smiling big.

"Nothing? Hmmm?" John asked as he eyed Sherlock. He was sitting crossed legged on the red carpet, holding a mish mash of colorful papers. "Doesn't look like nothing to me." He said, twirling the little girl around.

"It's okay Madeline, you may tell him now." Sherlock said, grinning ear to ear.

"Daddy, it's a birf present!" She giggled.

It was his birthday, he had completely forgotten. With everything he had on the go, it just slipped his mind. Of course he had thoughts like, 'my birthday is coming up, good God, I'm old.' Or 'isn't my birthday this month?' but somehow it still managed to get away from him.

"Oh...is it?" He asked, running his free hand through his hair.

"Yes!" She nodded.

"Where is it?" He asked, making Maddy squirm.

"Down 'ease, daddy. " She said. John placed her back on the floor, and watched as she ran over to Sherlock. She leaned into his ear, whispering. Sherlock just nodded and smiled before pulling out a pink gift bag from behind him.

"This one is from Maddy." Sherlock smiled. Maddy took the bag and ran over to him, putting it into his hands

"Well that explains the pink." He laughed as he joined them on the floor.

"Here daddy." She giggled, before running back over and sitting in Sherlock's lap.

He looked into the bag, but he couldn't see anything because of all the tissue paper they had stuffed into it. As he pushed it aside, he saw a box of tea, a book of some sort, and a handmade card. As he pulled it out, he realized that Maddy made the card. It was covered in colourful scribbles and drawings. John smiled, out of all the things in the bag, this was the best.

"Wait a second. My birthday isn't for another week!" John laughed.

"Yes, I know." Sherlock said, grinning mischievously. "I figured since we will (hopefully) be deep undercover by that point we should celebrate it early."

"Or you had all the gifts and just got impatient." He said, knowing Sherlock way too well.

"Either reason works. Now finish opening your gifts." Sherlock said hurriedly.

"I am!" John smiled. He pulled each item out one by one. Starting with the box of tea, earl grey, his favorite. Then the novel, a mystery of course. It made him happy to know each gift had been chosen with care and love, even if it wasn't by Maddy. "Thank you, sweetie." He said, opening his arms for a big hug. Maddy ran over and jumped into his lap, placing a slobbery kiss into his cheek.

"Welcome." She said as she settled into his lap. "Daddy? Maddy help?" She asked, very seriously.

"Here, help him with this one." Sherlock said passing them a medium size box covered in blue paper. John help her make a small tear in the wrapping before letting her dig into it.

"Look! What it is?" She asked, curiously poking at the cardboard.

"I don't know honey, we have to open it." He coddled.

"It's from Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock pointed out with a wink.

John quickly opened the box to reveal several jumpers of different colors and patterns. Giggling as Maddy pulled each one out and examined it carefully.

"And I will gladly thank her." He laughed. "Was that it? No cake?" John said smiling.

"No there's a few more. This one is from me." Sherlock said, pulling out a a black, leather covered notebook. It was a similar size to the one he used for his experiments and cases, but wearing a carved leather cover. It was beautiful, really, really, beautiful. It had a bright blue bow wrapped around it and a small tag attached, it read: To my love. He hadn't even opened it yet and he could already tell it was the best gift Sherlock had ever given him.

"John...Open it." Sherlock said, jolting him back to reality.

"What?" He asked. Suddenly realizing what was going on. "Oh ya, sorry, lost in my own thoughts for a bit." He apologized as he started to take off the big blue bow.

"It's a notebook." John said.

"Very observant, John." Sherlock laughed, rolling his eyes. "Look inside."

He opened it to reveal observations and deductions, but not just any. Observations on him, it contained every detail about him, what clothes he wore and when, it had his every look and glance recorded, it was a book about him.

"I started it the day we met, I have written down every moment, every touch, everything. This is our story." Sherlock explained, reaching out and placing his hand on John's thigh.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked, his heart warming at the gift.

"Because, I wasn't sure I was ready to share that part of myself with you." Sherlock said, turning his eyes back to the floor. "And now I am."

"You don't know how much this means to me." John said, on the verge of tearing up. He started to read through Sherlock's account of their relationship, their first kiss, their first fight, it even had his account of meeting Maddy. It was incredible.

"Daddy? Be sad?" Maddy asked.

"No sweetheart, I am just very, very happy." He said, holding her tightly in his lap.

"Okay." She said before going back to playing with the ribbon.

Sherlock looked at him deeply. "Do you really like it?" He asked.

John nodded, rolling his hand over the cover, feeling the hills and valleys with his finger tips. "I love it, I really do."

"I'm glad, I was hoping you would." He smiled, placing his hand over top of John's.

Most people viewed Sherlock as a harsh and unfeeling kind of man but to John that could not be further from the truth. He was someone who felt more deeply than most could even imagine and had been hurt countless times, so he had learned to block his true feelings from the world. But John could see through his fences and walls and into the real man he had fallen in love with.

John lifted Maddy off of his lap and crawled towards Sherlock, hugging him and giving him a quick peck before resuming his original position with Maddy in his lap. Her red curls were so fluffy as they rested against his chest. John cherished these moments, the moments where they felt like a real family. They always happened so unexpectedly, usually when he was stressed or nervous, Sherlock would find the perfect way to make him feel like he was at home. Sherlock always knew how to take the weight off his shoulders, one way or another. John had this constant feeling like he didn't deserve this man that sat in front of him, or the daughter that had come into his life so suddenly, but to the people that loved him, he deserved all that and more.

"There is one more. It's from Harry." Sherlock said, worry washing over his face.

Harry? That was a surprise, hell, it was a surprise she was even sober enough to remember she had a brother. John had purposely his Madeline from most of the people in his life, that even included his older Sister. Deep down he still loved her, but she had used up all her chances to be a true part of his life, he could never really trust her again. She would sober up, every now and again maybe even check herself into rehab, if she was having an epiphany of sorts. But it never lasted long, ten months was her record, before she would end up in the same place before. John had spoken to her a few months ago, keeping his happiness, his life with Sherlock and Maddy, his career, all off the table of conversation. He didn't know where she was living, or who with, and truth be told he really didn't care to. The less he knew the better, if he didn't know, he could imagine her happy somewhere, living her life to the full, instead of whatever hole she was living in now.

"I...I don't want it." He said, refusing to take the horribly wrapped box.

"John, I know how you are feeling, but please take it." Sherlock pleaded.

"I won't let her wreck this. This is my life, my life, Sherlock! There is a reason I don't let her into it." John said sternly, putting his foot down on the issue.

"You don't have to open it now, but we are keeping it, because one day you will want to." Sherlock said, knowing that he knew best.

"Fine, whatever." John huffed, grinding his teeth. He wasn't going to let Harry upset his perfect family moment. "Just throw it in the closet, I'll get to it eventually." He said, letting his anger melt away. He took a few deep breaths, calming himself. John never had much of a temper, except when it came to Harry, and occasionally Sherlock.

"Thank you." Sherlock said, smiling to himself.

"You welcome." Maddy said, looking up from her ribbon.

John shot a look at Sherlock and just laughed, soon Sherlock had joined in and they all had the giggles. That definitely lightened the mood.

"Hey, Maddy's birthday is coming up soon to. We should probably throw her a party or something. " John pondered aloud.

"Maddy's birf?" She asked.

"Yes, you are almost two." Sherlock said, tapping her nose with one finger. "Would you like a party?" He asked.

"Mmm." She hummed, thinking. "Yes! Pwincesses." She sang, smiling.

"Princesses, it is then." Sherlock smiled.

After a bit of contented silence, John's thoughts returned to the elephant in the room. "Sherlock, how can we throw her a party if we three are undercover?" John asked.

"Simple, it will be a great way to get Maria and her family to a social outing. We might need a way to meet them before hand, but I am sure we can find some dinner or garden party to sneak our way into." He said, logically.

"Ya, you said she had a little boy and a little girl, right?" John said, nodding. "Wait, we can't have them here, they will know the whole thing is a sham."

"Obviously John. I thought we could stay at my house until we finished with the case." He replied.

"Your house?"

"Yes, my house." Sherlock laughed.

"Back up, you have a house?" John asked, in slight shock. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It never came up in conversation." He said, smiling.

John sat, wondering what question to ask. "Then why do we live in the flat?"

"Besides it's central location and having Mrs. Hudson downstairs, the house is a bit large for my taste. I like the flat, it's cozy, and it's our home. The house is just empty rooms." He explained.

"Well, is it nice or is it like this place was before I moved in?" John asked, laughing.

"It's clean...well furnished, it's just like any other house, boring. It's really more of a long term investment that has it's uses now and again." He said, very nonchalantly.

"At least it's clean, that's a bonus." He said, smiling. "When do you want to leave?" John asked, trying to get everything sorted.

"Why don't we go in the morning? It would be a good time to get settled in, give us lots of time to get everything sorted." John said, treating it almost as a holiday.

"Very well. We should probably start packing then, we don't know how long we will be gone and Madeline will most likely need most if not all of her things, we will also need to pick up diapers on the way. The house is stocked with groceries and everything else we will be needing, but it was never prepared for a child." Sherlock agreed.

"Understandably." John said, moving Maddy off of his lap, and standing up. "I guess we should get going then." He said smiling as he helped Sherlock to his feet. "We have a lot to do."

* * *

A/N: I hope you all liked that. So as I said, case starts in the next chapter, and I'll try to down play the fluff. Anyway I am really looking foward to writing this next chapter, and I hope you all are looking forward to reading it too. So toodle loo!


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Hello! So I lied, I said I would tone down the fluff, and that just didn't happen, but I added smut to appease the masses, and this is a longer chapter, so I hope you like it!

* * *

John looked toward the dark grey skies and shivered. The weather had turned unexpectedly cold over the last week, not that he had given it much thought. But now with the sun rising, hidden beneath layers of clouds, it was something he was almost forced to think about as he packed case after case. One large case for each of them, plus the diaper bag and a duffel for Maddy's extra toys, diapers, and such. But really, how many suits and coats did one man need?! Did Sherlock really need a case full?

John looked back out the window, glancing over a few of the toys that sat on the sill. John could hardly believe Maddy was almost two, they could start potty training any day. Had it really been six months since Sam's death? It felt like the time had flown by, and yet at the same time he could feel the seconds ticking past.

He knew he had already broken so many of the promises he had made to her, but really, Maddy wasn't in any danger, and he did try to talk of her often. But still with every day that passed, he could tell Maddy remembered her mother less and less. To be truthful, that broke his heart. He only wanted what was best for his daughter, but he couldn't bring her mother back to life.

He worried about the conversations he would have to have with her the older she got. Where do babies come from, the birds and the bees, but even more he worried about what he would say when she asked him things like where her mother was or the day he would have to explain his and Sherlock's relationship. He worried if other children would pick on her for having two dads, or if she would feel different or left out because of it. But wasn't having two loving caring parents of the same sex better then having hateful or fighting parents of different genders? At least they had love spurring their relationship.

John knew that one day these questions would come up, and he wanted to be truthful with her, but how could he make it so she could understand without making it too grown up? Maybe Sherlock could think up a way. Okay, maybe not. John laughed as he thought about Sherlock explaining something like love to his daughter.

'Well, Madeline, first oxytocin and endorphins are released...'

No, it would be less confusing to tell her about cupid. John would just have to figure it out. Maddy hadn't much had a chance to meet children her own age or meet other families. No time to see other families with both a mommy and a daddy. But then again she had never really known a family with both, she was raised up to this point mainly by a single mother and a part time dad, and now she was being raised by her father and his...boyfriend? Life partner? Flat mate? Lover? Consulting detective? Where did Sherlock fit in? He wasn't he father, wasn't an uncle, he was just Sherlock. He was helping raise her so far, but their relationship really didn't have any definition, they were just Sherlock and John. So what did that make Maddy to Sherlock and vice versa?

If john was being honest with himself, he loved Sherlock, he hoped to one day marry him or at least define the relationship under certain terms. But he also hoped that Maddy would love him like a father and that Sherlock would love her like his own. He didn't care is Maddy called him papa or daddy or even just Sherbrock, as long as she could love him he, would be happy.

"John are you done with the bags?" Sherlock called down the hall.

"Ya, just about. No thanks to you." John laughed.

"Hey now, you know how horrible I am at packing." He said as he appeared in the door way and made his way to John's side.

"I will give you that." John said, smiling, remembering the last time Sherlock packed his bag. He hadn't even brought any clothes.

"We could probably leave soon, if you wanted." Sherlock proposed, wrapping his arms around the smaller man's waist.

"Uh ya, could do." He said, his brain muddled by the feeling of Sherlock's hands on him."Jaust a few things left to grab, and then we can go."

Sherlock spun John around and kissed him, deeply and heavy, and then left the room without so much as another word.

John zipped the duffel he had just finished packing, and slung it over his shoulder as he picked up two of the suitcase and carried the down the stairs. They hardly used Sherlock's room anymore, with Maddy in John's room, John's room soon became their room. John figured one day they would just turn Sherlock's room into a nursery, but for right now it worked as a nap room for Sherlock when Maddy was sick and occasionally a place for...other things.

"Sherlock?" John called.

No answer.

So he tried again. "Sherlock?"

"John! Shhhh!" He whispered sternly.

He smiled as he turned the corner, Maddy was sleeping on the sofa. Her soft auburn curls falling over her face and into her eyes. Her ratty teddy under her arm and her mouth falling open. As much as she looked like a mess, she looked absolutely adorable. Sherlock had a sketch pad in one hand and a pencil in his other. It took John a second before he realized what Sherlock was doing, he was drawing her. Sherlock, being Sherlock, was great at everything (well minus astronomy), that included art. He didn't sketch very often, maybe occasionally for a case, but the few John had seen from his uni days were amazing.

He placed the bags on the floor and quickly moved to peer over his shoulder. John could feel his jaw drop. It was beautiful. It was simple, just a few hastily drawn lines so far, but he had some how managed to captured her perfectly. The way her fingers clutched the bear, or the way her hair fell, it was just perfect.

"Wow." He hadn't even meant to say it, it just slipped out. It was truly the best piece of art he had ever seen. The most elegant, the most charming, the most amazing.

Sherlock shot him a look, his shut-up-or-I-will-murder-you look, usually the one reserved for Anderson or sometimes Lestrade, if he was in a bad mood.

John mouthed a quick sorry, before letting him continue. John sat down in his chair and watched as his little girl slept soundly, still in awe over Sherlock's many talents.

"I thought you wanted to get going?" John whispered.

"We can wait." He whispered back.

John had to stifle a bit of a laugh. Everything moved at Sherlock's pace, he could swear if Sherlock Holmes wanted the earth to stop spinning it would. But he was right, they weren't in any rush. John went and double checked they had all the toiletries, someone always forgot a toothbrush or something along the line. All toothbrushes packed, everyone had a few clean pairs of socks, and all gadgets and cords were accounted for. They were packed and ready to leave Baker Street for the first time since they had moved in.

They all could use a holiday, not that this was much of a trip, it was still nice to get away. All they had done were day trips here and there for a case. John could at least hope this would be relaxing in part, low danger, maybe an easier to handle Sherlock, fingers crossed.

"Joooohn..." Sherlock whined from down the hall.

"Yes?" He replied, peeking his head put of the bathroom.

"Will you please come here and put Madeline back to sleep?" He asked not so politely.

"I'm surprised she slept this long, Sherlock, I don't think she will fall asleep again that easily." John said as he headed back to the living room.

"Well, I'm not finished." He complained.

"Daddy?" Maddy yawned.

"Good morning, sweetheart." John said as he moved to lift her into his arms.

"Morn, daddy." She smiled, rubbing her eyes and attempting to get the hair off of her face.

"Fine, I will just have to finish it later then." Sherlock huffed as he went and packed his sketch pad away. "DId you call for the cab yet?" He asked.

"No, you said you would." John said, as much as he loved Sherlock, he was getting sick of being the responsible one. "Fine, whatever. I will just call them now, it's not like we are in a hurry." He sighed, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

He quickly dialed and held the phone up to his ear. They answered just as he was passing the wiggly little girl to Sherlock's waiting arms.

"Uh, ya. Hi, I need a taxi to 221B Baker Street, quick as you please." John asked, rushing with his words.

"Daddy? Car?" Maddy asked with a big yawn.

"Ya, we are going to go on a trip." He said, pulling both her and Sherlock in as he kissed her forehead.

"Oh, what twip?" She asked very seriously.

"It's when we go in the car and have a sleepover." He said in a way that she would understand.

"Nana?" She squealed.

"No, Nana has to stay here." He said, as much as he would love Mrs. Hudson to come along, three's a crowd.

"Oh, kay." She said, looking slightly disappointed before the smile returned to her face. She still tried to squirm out of Sherlock's arms, even though he had a firm grip on her. She looked up suddenly as the doorbell rang.

"I thought you broke the doorbell?" John asked, surprised that it worked.

"I did." He replied simply before grabbing one of the large cases with his empty hand and heading down the stairs to the landing. John followed shortly, holding the other two cases and the duffel thrown over his shoulder.

"I didn't think they would be that quick." John laughed as he took the steps two at a time, before sliding to a stop. "Harry...Uh..Hi." He stumbled, in shock.

"What the actual fuck?" She said, her face twisting with anger. John could smell the alcohol on her, so strong it burnt his nose just to breathe it in. She look tired and sunken, her skin glued to ger face, yet deep sagging circles still lived under her heavy eyes.

"Sherlock, take Maddy upstairs." He said, pursing his lips and bracing for a fight.

"John, I don't thin..." He started to say as he stroked Maddy's curls.

"Now." John said using his strong and commanding army voice, the one that gave the orders, the one that had to be obeyed.

Sherlock glance over them, hesitating before staring up the stairs. John and Harry watched as he gingerly took each step as slowly as possible.

John waited until he heard the door shut before he started talking. "What the hell Harry!? I don't see you for years and the you just show up on my doorstep swearing." He said, throwing his hands into the air.

"Well that's the funny thing about family, isn't it. One minute your all chummy, next thing you know your brother is calling your girlfriend and airing out the dirty laundry." She said, her temper not masked by her humor.

"We were never chummy, I was what, nine when you left? Second it was nothing she didn't deserve to know." He scoffed.

"What did you tell her!?" She half asked, half yelled.

"You mean you don't know? You just decided to come and scream at me, when you don't even have a clue of what I told her?" He asked, almost laughing.

"Do give me some credit, I have an idea. I came home and she kicked me out, all of my stuff sitting on the steps, outside, getting soaked." She said running her hand through her bobbed blonde hair. It was the exact same sandy blonde as John's, peppered with the same browns but with a little more grey.

"I told her about dad, I told her about you leaving, and about the alcohol, that's all." He said, unapologetic.

"Well, that would do it John!" She screamed, kicking the wall closest.

John rubbed his forehead. "How could you not tell her? Your in a serious relationship, she deserved to know! Well, that and she asked."

"So you are saying you tell your girlfriends every little detail about you past? You tell them about our parents? Did you tell them about the war? Did you tell them about Alex?" She snarled.

"No, I don't. But my longest relationship with a woman only lasted six months." He said, watching as Harry raised her eyebrow at that last bit.

"Are you saying?" She whispered, almost as if it were taboo.

Ding dong.

The doorbell. Saved by the bell, again. "Sherlock, taxi's here, let's go." He called.

"John, we're not finished." She said.

"I don't care." He said as he opened the door, waving at the driver. "We are leaving."

Maddy and Sherlock were soon with them at the bottom of the stairs. The little girl, smiling away, Sherlock's concern clearly showing through. "We'll meet you in the car, love." He said smiling.

Although it probably wasn't the best way to be outed, John felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. At least now he didn't have to make an awkward conversation out of it. Coming out wasn't as hard as he thought it would be, most people had already assumed the he and Sherlock were a couple already. But telling people about Maddy, that was a different story. Only a select few knew that side of him, his caring, fatherly side. He didn't really care who knew about his wavering sexuality, his daughter though...he needed to protect her, from everything and everyone.

Sherlock took Maddy and the few smaller bags and started to load them into the taxi, all while continuously glancing back at the closed door of 221 Baker Street.

"Harry, if you want to talk, like a civilized person, send me a text and we will go for coffee or lunch or something. You can't just barge into my life and start throwing punches." He said reaching for the door.

"Where am I supposed to go John?" She asked, tears filling her eyes. "Clara, she kicked me out when she found out I was drinking again. It was just one drink, I swear. I..just...What am I supposed to do now?" She asked, openly choking back a sob.

"I don't know." He said shaking his head. "But I am sure you will figure it out." He paused, taking a deep breath. "We have to go now, goodbye Harry."

He opened the door, his hand shaking slightly as he turned the knob and ushered them both out. He trued not to look at her face, knowing if he saw her, he would change his mind. He threw the last of the bags in the boot, careful not to turn around.

"But...John." She whispered as he got into the cab and it started to move. He closed his eyes will his thoughts onto different things, like the hand that now rested on his thigh. The long skinny fingers that tapped the curve of his leg. The pale skin that rested on his jeans...

"Daddy?" Maddy sang joyfully.

"Yes, honey?" He said, turning his grimace into a weak smile.

"Maddy love. Daddy love?" She asked.

"Of course, of course I love you!" John cooed, pulling her into his lap. "You sweet, silly girl."

"John." Sherlock said, his voice reassuring, as he continued to swirl circles into his thigh.

John smiled, trying his hardest to be happy, even though he wasn't fooling anyone. "I'm fine." He said. Sherlock just glanced at him, knowing better. "No, I am really. I just, it was time. She is out of chances." He said, letting out the breath he didn't know he was holding.

"You don't mean that."

"I think I do." He replied as he started to feel his body relax. He combed his fingers through Maddy's tangles, trying to work out the knots as gently as he could. God, he would have fun at bath time tonight.

The rest of the ride went in a quiet peace, just the sounds of their breathing or a small murmur from the little girl who was soon sleeping again, much to John's surprise. But within minutes, he was sleeping as well, exhausted from the late night birthday party. Though he was pleasantly and unexpectedly awoken when the car came to a halt not long after he started napping. It wasn't nearly as far out of the city as he thought it would be, though it was still a bit of a drive.

"Are we here?" John asked as he rubbed the sleep out his eyes and gently roused his daughter.

Sherlock just hummed and nodded in response, stepping out of the car and onto the long paved driveway, only to be greeted by an older gentleman wearing a dark grey suit. John watched as he continued to nod and let the man pay the cabbie.

Getting out of the car, John still didn't know what to expect. But he did know that the sight that greeted him was not even close to what he had pictured. They stood in front of a large, no mammoth sized mansion. It was white, with large grey stones in front of a grand entrance. It had Corinthian pillars and delicately carved railings, adding to the old english effect. Suddenly John felt very out of place, glancing around at his luxurious surroundings. He moved quickly, although trying to keep his composure.

"John, this is Westley. He is the butler and care taker of the Hemsworth Estate." Sherlock said, giving his introduction with a very formal tone.

"Hello Sir, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I do hope if you ever need anything you may ask for me personally, though if I am unavailable, James is also very qualified." He said, as a young man, maybe twenty or twenty one stepped forward from the line of...Staff? Servants? No, staff was right, no one had servants anymore and even then only the filthy rich had staff. Mycroft would have staff, but Sherlock? It seemed a little more uncharacteristic.

There were eight women, all dressed in a long black uniform dress, hair all in the same dull buns, as well as two men dressed in black pants and a white shirt, wearing a grey vest to top it off. Really, the only two who stood out were Westley and James, so at least it would be easy to tell them apart, he thought.

"Oh, thank you." John said almost forgetting his manners entirely.

"Also, I took the liberty of finding a Nanny for Miss Maddy, she comes highly recommended. Unfortunately she does not arrive until tomorrow, as we were under the impression that you would not be arriving until later in the week. Please accept my apologies, Mr . Holmes. " Westley explained as he took a step back.

"That will do, though please have her references on my desk by this afternoon, I would prefer to have a browse through them myself." Sherlock said almost a little too harsh.

"As you wish." He said giving a brief nod before waving the two men to the car. "Sir, if that will be all, we do have a few last minute preparations to finish, if you will excuse us."

Sherlock merely waved his hands and the staff resumed what they had been doing previously. "John, come along and I will give you the tour." He said as he started to walk toward the large and incredibly ornate door, made all with dark wood and brass fittings.

"You told me this was a house, not a bloody mansion." John scolded, obviously caught off guard.

"It is, just a house. It is a collection of rooms, that function as a dwelling. That is the definition of a house." He said sarcastically.

"You know what I mean." He said, struggling to both keep up with his long strides and hold the sleepy little girl in his arms.

John felt completely unprepared when he walked into the giant foyer. It was big open room with a grand staircase (made of the same dark wood as the door) towering right in the center. Just this room was overwhelming, everything was so lavish, he was scared to touch anything or put Maddy down, just in case she would break some thousand year old vase or ruin some priceless work of art.

"Stop worrying." Sherlock said, placing his hand on John's shoulder.

"I just thought it would be along the lines of five bedrooms and four bathrooms, something bigger than average but not this, not twenty bedrooms and thee zillion bathrooms." He laughed.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous, it's only eleven bedrooms." He said pulling John into an quick embrace.

He rolled his eyes, 'only eleven'. To John it may as well have been Buckingham Palace. He looked around at his flawless surroundings, everything in it's proper place. John watched as one of the maids walked quickly across one of the halls, her arms full of linens and sheets, all carefully folded.

"Sherlock, where do all the staff live?" He asked. "Do they live here?"

"No, the main house is just for us, well, and our guests. They all live in their own residences on the estate grounds, all within walking distance though." He explained.

Hearing Sherlock say us, melted John's heart. "So what do they do here everyday?" He asked.

"Well they are only part time staff when we aren't here. They come in on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. The only full time staff are Westley, James, and Scott. Scott takes care of the animals on the grounds."

"You have animals?" John asked, surprises waiting for him at every turn.

"We have horses, sheep, a few dogs, there's cats and I think there's a couple of cows and chickens in the barn. But I haven't been here in a while, Scott would be the one to talk to if you want more information." He said as they wandered down a long hallway that ended at a magnificent kitchen.

"So, this is the kitchen." Sherlock said, quite matter of factly.

"It's nice, have you ever used it?" John laughed.

"Yes...for experiments, and occasionally for it's hand in providing my body with nutritional value." He smiled, even though he tried to hide it. "Come along, I want to show you the upstairs." Sherlock said as he grabbed John's empty hand, before dragging him up a closeted staircase.

"I have a feeling I am going to get very lost here." John giggled.

Sherlock pulled/dragged him along the long and beautiful decorated hallways. Every hall was different, held doors to different types of rooms, some had oil paintings, some had photos, some even had pictures of them. Ones of him and Sherlock, ones of Maddy, ones of all three of them, doing one thing or another.

"Where did all these pictures come from?" John asked pointing at a black and white one of them, John smiling (or at least trying to) and Sherlock making a face. They both remembered that day, it was raining and Sherlock throwing a fit about not being able to go see a crime scene for one reason or another. It was an older one and one of the funnier ones they had together, but it was them, one hundred percent. That picture was quintessentially them.

"From me, every now and again I will send a photo for them to print and put up. It makes me feel more at home when I have you two here." Sherlock said as he opened a door a few down from their picture.

They walked in and John instantly knew which room they were in. It was Maddy's room. It was painted a light yellow, a happy yellow. There were stuffed animals in all different colors, dotted around the room. There was both a crib and a small bed, probably for when she got a little older. There was even a bookshelf packed floor to ceiling with everything from picture books to children's novels.

"This is wonderful. And didn't you tell me that this 'house' wasn't set up for a child?" John said as he placed the little girl into the white crib. Smoothing her curls down before kissing her forehead.

"I may have, but I'm glad you like it." He said as he wrapped his arms around John's waist. "Because if you like her room, wait until you see what's next." He kissed his neck, nuzzling his nose into the crook.

"Mmmm." John mumbled as Sherlock guided them out of Maddy's bedroom and toward a door only a meter or two a way.

Inside, there was a large plush bed, with a clean and perfectly placed blue comforter on top. The room was a light grey, with a big white rug in the center of the room. This room had everything, it had a desk and an office like area, a flat screen TV and even a couch off in the corner. It also had a marvelous view. It looked out over the grounds, the bright and vivid green of the grass, only interrupted by trees here and there.

Right over the bed was a large photo of them, mid kiss. It was beautiful, John, couldn't wrap his head around it.

"When was that?" John asked, turning around to look at his detective.

"That was at Angelo's, our first real date. Remember?" He asked as he scratched the back of his head anxiously. "I thought it would suit our room well." He said.

"Oh, of course!" He smiled. "You were so nervous, you kept fidgeting and rearranging the flatwear." John said, laughing at the memory.

"I wasn't nervous, I was excited."

"About?"

Sherlock crossed the small space in between them in one long stride, soon holding John just by his shoulders, before leaning in and pressing their lips together. John, even though he was caught off guard, accepted the kiss and started to let his hands roam. His fingers untucked his blue button down and slide underneath, reaching and teasing his nipple. Just enough to make him moan.

Watching him come undone was John's favorite part, he loved stripping him down one layer at a time. Watching as his walls come down, watching him need to be touched, watching him need him.

Sherlock was soon tugging on John's jeans, brushing over his growing erection. John pulled his hand away, and continued to tease him. Sherlock pushed him backward and let him fall onto the bed. John looked at him, consumed by want and need, reaching out for him. Soon Sherlock was on top of him, pushing him into the bed.

"Sherlock, do you have any lube?" John panted.

"Uh yes...Somewhere." He said as started to dig around the room. He went through the night stand, and rummaged through the dresser, ransacked the on suite bathroom, and even checked the desk drawers...nothing. Sherlock's face fell.

"Doesn't matter, we will figure it out. Get over here." He said as he took off his shirt in one fluid motion. He didn't move for a moment, silently figuring out what his next move would be. He pounced. Pulling off his own trousers with one quick heave, leaving him just in his pants. Soon John was in the same state, his pants obviously tented.

"John." Sherlock shuddered, his body shaking.

John slid his fingers under his waistband and tugged his pants down, revealing his straining erection. He was standing over the blond who was sitting on the edge of the bed. John could smell Sherlock, his strong scent crashing over him in waves. He reached out, taking Sherlock's length in his hand, lightly kissing and caressing it. John smiled as he felt the man above shake with pleasure. John took him in his mouth, well, as much as he could. He slipped his tongue around him, swirling him in his cheek before moving him in and out of his mouth. He pressed hard using his lips as a tight ring. John moved him out of his mouth, with Sherlock moaning at the cold air. He licked two fingers, making sure they were moist before they made their was to his backside, deftly sliding between his cheeks and skimming over his entrance.

Sherlock let out a shaky breath as John pressed his fingers inside, moving them in just the right way. He twisted his fingers into John's hair, grasping and pulling in every direction. John used his free hand to bring him back into his mouth as he continued to fuck him with his fingers. John grazed over his prostate, making Sherlock almost buckle over.

"I..I.." He breathed, trying to warn him. But John didn't care, he kept on what he was doing, licking, moving, and tasting. Watching as he shook with his release, struggling to stay standing. John swallowed as much as he could only letting a few bits fall.

The dazed look in eyes only spurred John on, milking him of every last drop. He removed his fingers and focused on his cock. Polishing the tip with just the end of his tongue.

Sherlock's breathing became heavier and more labored as he pulled John off of him and moved himself down to kiss him. He pressed his lips onto John's, piercing his lips with his tongue.

John moaned into him. John tugged them apart. "I love you." He whispered as he moved down his neck.

"It's my turn to take care of you." Sherlock said as he held him down to the mattress, just letting John shimmy up so his legs were on the bed as well.

"Pants. Off. Now." He said as he ran his hands down John's chest. His fingers gently rubbing against his nipples, watching as his cheeks went flush. John tried to get his hands to cooperate as best he could, but they were shaking with anticipation with every movement. Although he was desperate, it still took him quite a while and a series of awkward tugs and pulls before he was actually freed.

Sherlock sighed with impatience and excitement. As much as John loved getting him off, Sherlock loved it even more.

John looked dazed as Sherlock's hands found his stiff cock, aching to be touched. John thrusted his hips, feeling relief as Sherlock's pale fingers wrapped around him. John moaned, trying to get more leverage and failing.

"Please. Oh god. Please." He panted, trying to make him go faster.

"That's right, I want you to come for me." Sherlock whispered into his ear as he hunched over and took his left nipple into his mouth. He grazed over the delicate skin, just using his teeth at first, and then adding his lips and tongue. He could feel his muscles tightening, building up for his climax. And then he fell over the edge, almost embarrassed by how quick he went, but he was so lost, he couldn't really give a fuck.

As he slowly came back to earth, he started to remember where he was.

"Sherlock, we just made a colossal mess of this bed." He giggled as he rolled to look at him.

"Doesn't matter, we have nine others left to try." Sherlock out right laughed.

"We should probably get cleaned up." He said with a smile. "Now that we have christened our bedroom." John couldn't stop grinning, Sherlock always knew how to cheer him up.

"We should also pick up some lube." Sherlock said with a large grin on his face.

John sat up and ruffled his hair, stretching out his over used muscles. Sherlock grasped his arm and used it to pull himself toward him. Sherlock kissed his shoulder, the undamaged one, feeling the ridges in his skin.

"Why do you love me?" John asked, turning his body so he could see Sherlock's face.

"That's an impossible question. I love you because you are you. I love you because of everything you are. There is no one reason." Sherlock said as he moved in for a kiss.

"But in comparison to you, I am so dull. I am the most ordinary person in the world, and yet you chose me. So why?" He asked earnestly.

"Because you the kindest, most loving, most genuine, and the least dull person, I have ever had the pleasure to meet." He said, kissing his neck between words. "Now that we have that settled why don't we go get washed up, still lots to see." Sherlock said as he almost jumped to his feet.

"Okay, okay. Wait for me!" John laughed as he untangled himself from the sheets to join him.

* * *

By the time he had finished his overly long shower, he felt like a new man. Partially because he had decided to make today a great day and partially because of the million and one shower settings.

"Sherlock?" John called out into the bedroom.

Nothing.

"Sherlock?" He called again.

No answer.

Strange...he was probably just off pestering some maid about the ration of water to laundry detergent or something equally odd.

John wrapped a towel around his waist and went into the bedroom, he couldn't get over was the nicest house he had ever seen, hell, it was the nicest anything. It was beautiful, it was a mix of old classic and chic modern style, but somehow it all came together and worked surprisingly well. He must have put all of his inheritance down on it, or at least as much as he had access to.

He sat on the bed, looking at their empty bags in the corner. Someone must have unpacked for them, he could get used to that. John rummaged through the drawers, before finally pulling out a blue T-shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans, something comfy.

He took a deep breath before he opened the door to check up on Maddy. He looked around for a map, or a sign that would help him find his way back, but soon gave up on the futile search. Until he spotted the picture he had seen earlier, the one with Sherlock making the face. He opened the door closest to the large photo and found the room he had been hoping for. The bright yellow walls and white trim, instantly cheering him up. He looked over at the crib and saw Maddy standing up and smiling at him.

"Did you have a good nap, sweetheart?" He asked as he reached to pull her out.

"Mmm, ya." She said grabbing hold of his neck as he picked her up. "Hungry, daddy!"

"Should we go find you a snack?" John asked, holding her close.

"Yes, 'ease." She smiled as she started to wiggle.

John laughed, giving her a kiss on the cheek. Now just to find his way back to the kitchen...yikes. then he had an idea. John pulled out his phone.

Which way to the kitchen? -JW

Sherlock replied almost immediately.

End of the hall with the flowers, turn left and then follow till you see the yellow chairs and open the door on your right. Go through the office, down the main stairs, then follow the hall on your left. -SH

God, this was going to be a disaster. He laughed and attempted to follow his directions as precisely as he could. He got to the office but when he came out the other end he couldn't see stairs of any kind, let alone the grand staircase case he saw when he first came in. He decided just to call him.

"Hello?" He asked on the other line.

"Ya, hi. I'm lost, I'm in the office but I don't see any stairs." John said.

"And you opened the door on the right of the yellow chairs?" He asked incredulously.

"Yes, I did. Where are you anyway?" He asked, suddenly curious.

"I'm in the office, which is why I find it strange that you are in the office and yet not in the same room as me." Sherlock said, stifling a laugh.

"Can you just come find us, we are in a room with a couple of bookshelves, two desks, a couch, and a fireplace." He said as he looked around the room.

"You are in the study, one moment." He said as he hung up.

Within a few seconds Sherlock opened the door wearing a dark grey, three piece suit, and looking dashing at that.

"Your not wearing that are you? " Sherlock asked as he gave John the once over.

"Oh, I see. Love, you are doing that thing where you don't tell me what's going on, again." John said, feeling a grin rising on his face.

"I could swear I told you. At any rate, Mycroft managed to secure us an invitation to dinner at the Cornwall's tonight, we should be leaving within the hour." He said as he adjusted his cufflinks. "I hate these damn things! Will you just do them?"

John walked over and put Maddy down on the sofa, and carefully place his cufflinks in the right spot and clipped them together. "Sherlock, I don't have anything this formal." He said, hesitantly.

"Yes you do, I made sure of it. There's four new suits in your closet, that's the right one." He said, quite matter of factly.

"Who will watch Maddy? Westley said the nanny wouldn't be here until tomorrow."

"No matter, I will make sure a maid is on hand."

John sighed. "Okay, well can you go feed her, while I get dressed? There's baby food in the duffel or at least there was."

"Mmm." He hummed as he lifted the little girl into his arms. "Are you hungry, princess?" He said as he tapped the end of her button nose. "Meet me downstairs in a half hour. If you need directions, just call." He said as he left the room.

Well this will be fun, John though as he attempted to find his way back to their room in the maze of hallways. But then again how would he ever find his way around if he didn't get lost a few times on the way?

* * *

A/N: Hello, hello! Long time no see..Well not really, but you get my point. Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter, if you did please review! I cannot even begin to tell you how much I love reviews. And the more you review the more I write, so it's good all around.

Also before I leave, quick poll... Shorter chapters and quicker updates or longer chapters but slightly longer update waits?


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Sorry it took so long! I tried to make it snappy but I had some writing mishaps, but it's up now...so I'm going to stop rambling and let you read it.

* * *

When John finally got back to their room, he had already wasted half of his precious thirty minutes. He opened the right closet just like Sherlock had told him to, only to find his few button downs and nice trousers on one side and new shirts, pants, suits, and ties on the other. John pulled out a black suit that looked very expensive, and started to get dressed. The last time he had worn a suit was Sam's funeral, and he still hadn't gotten it dry cleaned. But this was a whole other ball game, this wasn't some cheap polyester, easily to pieces suit, this was luxury, as with everything else in this house, this was extravagance.

As he finished getting dressed, he carefully put on the soft, silky, black jacket. It fit him like a glove, Sherlock must have custom ordered this...He had never had anything custom made for him. He had never been in a house this nice. He had also never had a shower without worrying about not having hot water. But he had always assumed that this was his lot, never having enough money for the basics, and living paycheck to paycheck. It wasn't until he went into the army that he could actually afford to have a bit of spending money. He could remember feeling so relieved when he didn't have to worry about money anymore.

As much as Sherlock said he couldn't take care of him, and as much as John denied the need to be taken care of, John wasn't working, he had no money except for his miniscule army pension and that was little more than pocket change. He and Maddy, relied purely on Sherlock's income, or whatever they could make off of their cases. John needed to work though, he was sick of staying at home, he was sick of feeling useless, and he was sick of not helping people. He loved his daughter, and he loved taking care of her, but he was tired.

John smoothed out the suit, running his hand down the soft fabric, he had paired it with a simple white shirt and a light blue tie, he had almost just left the shirt open, but if Sherlock was wearing cufflinks, he could wear a tie. John walked over to the full length mirror in the corner. He looked pretty sharp. No Sherlock, but he was looking good none the less. He was sure that he would just end up looking like a teenage boy going to prom or someone's frumpy grandpa. Luckily he didn't look like either. He looked dashing, like he might actually blend in for once.

He was actually excited, a night out. They hadn't really been many places since Maddy moved in, date night meant sitting on the couch, maybe getting Sherlock to eat a piece of chicken and watching a bit of telly. They had become an old married couple, aged themselves forty years in the process. John looked at himself, gave himself a really good once over. He looked happy, for the first time in a while he looked truly happy. Nothing weighing on his mind, he wasn't worried about Harry, or Maddy, or Sherlock. He wasn't worried about money, he was enjoying just being John.

"John! John!" Sherlock called from some unknown location.

"Almost done, just give me a second to grab my coat." John yelled back, probably a bit too loud, but in a house that size, it didn't make much of a difference.

Just as John reached into the closet, Sherlock opened the door. "I said half and hour." He stated in an irritated tone.

"And what's it been, thirty-four minutes?" John asked sarcastically.

"Thirty-five." He huffed.

John laughed. "Okay then, let's be off." He said, still hoping to have a great night. There would most likely be good food, decent conversation, and a bit of mystery, everything they needed to have a good time.

Sherlock looped his arm through John's, placing his hand over top of the other. He guided them through the house, down the main stairs and to the grand front door.

"Now John, we will have to use our real names, because I'm fairly sure everyone who will be attending already knows who we are, also we are using my family name as an advantage. But as far as our back story goes, I think it could do with some altering." Sherlock said as he helped John into his coat and then slid into his own.

"Like what?" He asked, suddenly curious.

"Met in school through common acquaintances, you already had Maddy from a previous relationship..." He trailed off as he knelt down on one knee and pulled out an extremely ornate box.

John looked skeptically at the box. It was a ring box, a very beautifully carved ring box. He had looked at similar/less expensive ones when he had thought about proposing to Sam...wait... it was a ring box! But Sherlock didn't believe in marriage, although at one point he didn't believe in children either, it wasn't until Maddy came along that he even thought about them. There was always a slim chance that maybe, just maybe, he had changed his belief system all together and realized sentiment wasn't so horrible, or at least John was hoping.

John, ever the romantic, rarely got to use any of his well practiced charm on Sherlock, and when he did, it was wasted, or so he thought when the day came (if ever), John had always assumed it would be him proposing, though he didn't want to scare Sherlock off with an early proposal. That was one of the things that had held him back from proposing, Sherlock didn't want to be married. But if he had changed enough to let both Maddy and him into his heart, John thought maybe he had even changed enough to decide marriage was a good idea.

He did have this house, and kept saying things like 'we have' or 'our home' or 'It's ours". Plus, he had been much more affectionate over the past few days, still a childish arse, but definitely sweeter. Was this just part of his plan?

"John?" Sherlock called, bringing him out of his mental panic attack. What was he supposed to say...wait, wasn't Sherlock supposed to say something first, something along the lines of I love you, or I want to spend my life with you, or make me the luckiest man in the world?

John, not being practiced in the art of proposing, wasn't overly sure, but he was convinced, there was usual a declaration of love to go along with the ring.

"Uh, hi, ya, what?" He stumble, trying to make a full sentence.

"Back story, John. We are supposed to be married or at least engaged, and now we are." He said, slipping the ring out and placing it on his ring finger. John glanced at his hand, the silver band sitting easily in it's place, as if it had always been there.

"Now we are able leave." Sherlock said simply, waving his fingers to draw attention to his matching ring. The heavy silver a sharp contrast on his pale skin.

John felt his heart sink, it was almost suffocating, but really he should have known better. Sherlock did not revel in sentiment. Half the time he loathed emotion as a whole. John could feel his temper rising, but knew better than to lash out, when really it was his fault for getting his hopes up.

John sighed. "Thank you."

"Are you upset with me?" He asked, lifting his eyebrow quizzically. John knew Sherlock was reading him like a book at the moment, but he couldn't hide his emotions like he could.

"No, it is...it's me..." John said, waving him off.

Sherlock stood up and grabbed his shoulder. "If something is bothering you, I need to know." He said with firmness.

"I...I thought you were proposing." John said, hiding his face in his hands, blushing from the silliness of it. He felt like a thirteen year old girl, who thought her crush was going to kiss her and then didn't.

He looked at him sideways, absorbing what he said, carefully deciding his response. "I was." He said, keeping his voice even. "I thought you would be happy. Everything over the past few months told me this is what you wanted."

"I meant for real, I thought you were actually proposing." John said, his heart still filled with a sinking feeling.

"John, you know how I dislike to repeat myself. I was." He said in all seriousness.

John stood there, mouth gaping. Unable to digest, it seemed unreal. "Wait...seriously?" He asked.

"Yes!" He affirmed.

"Yes. Yes. Very much yes." John stammered. Feeling like he was going to jump ten feet in the air. The last five minutes had been such a roller coaster of emotions.

"Yes?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes, I'm saying, yes I will marry you." John said, trying to be calm.

"I thought your acceptance was assumed. We both want this, so I deemed asking just an unnecessary measure." He said.

John smiled and let out a quiet laugh. "Love, it's romantic."

"Do you like that kind of thing?" He asked, honestly curious. He leaned down and kissed his cheek, rubbing his back awkwardly.

"Yes, it's sweet." He smiled.

"Noted. Now we are running a tad late, so we should probably be off."

John put his hand on Sherlock's chest. "Wait, are we actually engaged now?"

"I guess we are." He said, a smile growing on his face. Sherlock grabbed his hand, holding it tightly in his own and lead them out the door. "John, I love you."

That was all it took, just one last romantic push and a tear rolled out the corner of his eye. "I love you too, Sherlock, I love you too." He said, doubling his words, just to make sure his point got across.

* * *

The car pulled up to a mansion that made Sherlock's look like a shack, a nice, overly luxurious shack, but still a shack none the less. John looked at the other guests who still lingered outside the castle, so formal, John didn't know how tobe formal. Nothing in his life had ever prepared him for anything like this, not his (horrible) childhood, not his lack luster education, not the army, and definitely not living with Sherlock.

"Stop it." He said, swatting John's arm in a playful manner.

"What on earth do you mean?" John asked.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "You are a worrier, so stop your worrying. You are being ridiculous." He laughed, giving him a quick peck, letting his hands crawl under John's jacket.

"I will stop worrying, if you stop trying to seduce me, Mr. Holmes." He said as he wiggled away from Sherlock's wandering fingers.

The car came to a slow stop and Sherlock jumped out of the car, obviously excited about the case and about the probable chance of him getting laid tonight. John beamed as Sherlock opened the door for him and gave him his hand.

John was being wooed, and he loved it. He enjoyed doting on the ones he loved, but sometimes it was nice to be on the receiving end. John loved Sherlock and he loved their life, every part of it, even the crazy, insane, dangerous, and down right silly bits. There was so much that he enjoyed about his life, it was hard to imagine it ever being any different. Obviously, as Maddy grew, and their relationship grew, it would change as would they. They would change with every milestone they passed and every bridge they crossed. But John could only hope it would be for the better.

They walked toward the party, with loud chatter emanating from every window and door, John fidgeting, and Sherlock almost running to the door. It looked like quite the dinner going on inside, there had to be at least one hundred and fifty people inside, and those were just the people he could see.

"Ready?" John asked as they reached the door.

"The game is on." He replied as the door was opened by a man in his early forties.

"Mr. Sherlock Holmes and a Mr. John Watson." Sherlock said to the older man who then just announced it in a loud and booming voice.

John could swear the second the man said Sherlock, every eye in the room was on them, as if they were looking at a lost relic from an ancient world or a newly discovered species of kangaroo. No one gave John a second glance, but Sherlock had all eyes on him, heads were craning in their direction.

A woman dressed in a long, sparkling, dark purple dress stepped out into the middle of the room, accompanied by a man at least twice her age who was dressed in black tie.

"Now that everyone has arrived, we would like to thank everyone who was able to join us for dinner this evening. It's a pleasure to be in such fine company." She said, gesturing to the room the room of people. She had medium length, dark brown hair, her face was long and thin, as was the rest of her, only accentuated by the dress she was wearing. The man on her arm quickly redirected them to the bar and ended up talking to one of the many guests.

Sherlock took this as a cue, moving his hand into John's and pulling them off to a semi secluded corner.

"That was our host for the evening, one Mrs. Cornwall." Sherlock subtlety pointed toward the man on her arm, who was at least double her age. "And that is her husband."

John looked at them carefully, also passing glances at some of the others that mulled and mingled over the cocktails in hand.

"Mmm, and the blonde in the emerald dress, that is Maria Harrow and her husband Matthew." He said as his eyes flickered to the right. He was observing, discreetly, locking everything away to be analyzed later.

"So what's the plan, just start up a chat about tea?" John asked.

"Oh no, nothing so brazen, we will be sitting next to them at dinner. The Cornwall's are fabulous hosts and to prevent any unwelcome whispers, they seat everyone alphabetically. We are under Holmes." He said smugly.

The man who opened the door for them, eagerly replaced their hosts in the middle of the room. "DInner will be served in ten minutes. We do request that everyone moves into the dinning room and takes their seats. Thank you." He said as people started to filter into one of the many doors on his side.

"You will be sitting on my left and Maria's right." Sherlock said.

"But if she is married, didn't her name change?" John asked, slightly confused.

"They hyphenated." Sherlock said with a look of disgust playing out on his face. A look that told him he would never be John Watson-Holmes. "Oh and stick to topics such as children, the weather, and local events, and at all costs avoid politics, money, and talk of ones health." He said as he put his hand on the small of his back.

They were quickly ushered into to a large room that held four ridiculously long tables, all with fine settings and a little name card in front of each chair. When they found their seats, almost everyone was already sitting, and again all eyes were on them. The woman to Sherlock's right eyed them, her glare (John could swear) pierced his soul.

John leaned in close to Sherlock. "I think you have an admire, or maybe more than one." He whispered.

"Well, unless they are you, I could really care less." He smiled as John tilted away.

Mr. Cornwall sat at the head of their table, only ten or so seats away from them. Maybe he wanted to keep an eye on them he thought, or maybe it was just coincidence, or maybe they just wanted to get a look at the mysterious and gossiped about Sherlock Holmes for themselves. It seemed like this was the first time anyone had ever seen him in the light of day.

John looked at each guest carefully, only a few empty chairs were left, each one caught his eye just as much as the next. All in formal attire, woman with their hair, nails, and dresses perfect down to the last thread, and the men all equally adorned in fancy silks and dashing tuxedos. It all made John feel incredibly out of place and unsure of himself.

Just as he was beginning to doubt he had the skills for this case, the woman in the emerald gown took her seat, quickly followed by her husband.

She was really very stunning, definitely John's type when it came to women. Medium height, long blonde hair, slight freckling across the bridge of her nose, a slight build, not what typically came to mind when you thought about the mastermind of a criminal organization.

"Hello, I'm John Watson." He introduced as she took her place. "And this is my fiancé Sherlock Holmes." He said, looking at Sherlock who was already involved in another conversation. Why did it feel so strange to call him his fiancé, that's what they were defined as at the moment. But the word just didn't want to sit well on his tongue.

"Hello, I'm Maria, and this is my husband Matthew. It's always lovely to meet new people at these kinds of functions." She said, smiling as she introduce her husband.

She seemed...really really sweet. Nothing about her made john skittish or jumpy. Though was an old lady in the corner with a pound and a half of make up on her face that put his teeth on edge.

"Yes, actually it will be nice to get to know some of Sherlock's other friends." He said as he unfolded his napkin into his lap.

"So since we are on the topic of getting to know each other, what do you do for work?" Maria asked, being nothing but kind and polite. John was sure she could tell he had never been to a formal dinner, and was just choosing to overlook that.

John took a sip of his wine, before speaking. "I'm am a doctor, though that being said I have been on leave for a few months." He watched as the waiters started plating the food, something smelling awfully good.

"Oh that's wonderful! We need more people like you in this world. Why did you chose to be a doctor?"

" It was just something I always loved to do, the only reason I took leave was because of my daughter, and that I don't regret one bit."He laughed.

"You have a daughter, mine just turned one, how old is yours?" She asked, her eyes lighting up at the mention of her children.

"Madeline is just about to turn two in another month or so. Actually we just moved to the area from the city and really haven't had a chance to meet anyone, we should set up a playdate." He said, trying to steer the conversation in a Sherlock approved direction.

"Yes, we must. Charlotte would love that."

"Is she your only child?" He asked, knowing she also had a son.

"No, we also have a little boy, Henry, he's three."

John nodded, obviously listening as the waiter came around with the first course.

"I bet he's a charmer."

"Oh yes, you know how boys are." She said as they both looked at the soup they had been served.

"John, darling." Sherlock asked, putting his hand on his shoulder.

"One moment." He said looking at Maria before turning to Sherlock's side.

"This is Beatrice, she is the head of fundraising at Bart's." He said, smiling in a way that over exposed his usually hidden teeth. "And Beatrice, this is John, my fiancé."

The woman face changed from a civil smile to a expression of pure horror. She was an older lady, but still no older than fifty five. But the way she looked at them, he knew what had changed. The woman stood up and politely excused herself before quickly scampering off in the direction of the bathroom.

"Sherlock, that was inappropriate." He said in a hushed tone, making sure no one else could hear him.

"What did I do?" He asked knowingly.

"You can tell someone's profession from their tie or know about their childhood all because of how they stand. So don't sit there and tell me you didn't know she would react that way." He huffed, still trying to keep his voice low as he turned back to Maria.

"Sorry about that." He said as he finally ate a spoonful of soup. It was delicious, it was some kind of green broth with nuts sprinkled over the top, but it was bursting with flavor.

"Oh no, don't apologize. It gave me time to focus on the soup." She laughed.

How could she, this wonderful, funny, smart woman, who by all accounts seemed nothing but sweet be running a drug ring... well and human trafficking. Maybe Sherlock was wrong, maybe this was the wrong woman. Or maybe she was just a very impressive actress. Either way John had a feeling he would enjoy himself, as long as Sherlock behaved, Beatrice didn't come back, and he got to keep talking about his sweet little girl.

As the meal went on, Beatrice did return but stayed away from Sherlock, leaving him nothing to do but jump in on John's conversation with the Harrows, which was fine because soon her husband had joined as well. Luckily neither Maria or Matthew seemed off put by Sherlock's...up front manner, even though he was being exceedingly charming. Honestly, John could really see them being friends with the Harrow-Smiths. Lunch dates, picnics in the park, afternoon play dates. They were just so down to earth, especially for the upper class.

"John, follow me." Sherlock whispered as he leaned over John's shoulder.

"Where?"

"To the bathroom, we need to regroup and share our findings thus far." He said as if it were obvious.

"Sherlock Holmes. I am not following you to the bathroom in the middle of a formal dinner party." He said as a pout overtook his face. "No. Everyone will think we are having a shag in the loo." He said, almost so low not even Sherlock could hear.

He rolled his eyes and continued to sulk, knowing he wouldn't get his way. Within a few seconds he was back to his normal...well charming undercover self.

Once dinner had finished they were all excused from the tabled and moved into a large ballroom with a beautiful garden. The garden was covered in twinkle lights and looked like something straight out of a fairytale.

"Join me for a stroll, darling?" John asked as he extended his arm.

"Of course, dear." Sherlock smiled as he took his arm.

John headed toward the garden, pulling Sherlock along with him, taking them away from the party and it's guests. It was warm out, summer was definitely on their heels, trees and flowers just starting to bloom, the air filled with their smell. It was dark and John couldn't see very far, but he was sure he could hear a waterfall or a stream somewhere close by. There was so many thoughts whizzing through his mind, the fresh air felt good, calmed him a bit. He took a few deep breaths, letting the night wash over him.

"What's wrong? What are you thinking about?" Sherlock asked as he cupped John's face with his hand.

"Nothi..." He stopped himself. "They just, they seem so normal, and nice."

"Matthew doesn't know, he has no idea. He probably think she volunteers her time with children or animals or something. She is the mastermind, John, the one with the plans." He kissed the top of John's head. Such a simple gesture that made John's heart warm.

"How could she be behind all that and not tell her husband?" He asked, baffled that anyone could keep such a secret.

"It's not that far fetched when you think about it." Sherlock said, brushing his fingers through his hair.

John leaned his head onto his shoulder, feeling his support behind him. Sherlock wrapped his fingers around his waist, holding him in close. Sherlock kissed his neck, nuzzling his nose in the crook. Taking him in, smelling the earl grey, the plain soap, and the honey, that made up his scent. They heard a loud rustle behind them that made them both jump.

They turned around, surprised to see the older woman from earlier standing behind them, a look of horror plastered on her face. What was her name..Bea..Brenda...Beatrice? Beatrice. That sounded right. They quickly broke apart.

They just stood there, awkwardly, in silence for a few moments. Before she coughed and started to speak. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave." She said, her tone very formal.

"Why?" John asked, feeling Sherlock stiffen beside him.

"This has gone far enough, now don't make a scene. No reason to wreck a perfectly good evening."

"No. Tell me why you asking us to leave, when we haven't done anything wrong or inappropriate." John said, his face not showing the hurt he felt.

"Everything you are is wrong. What you do behind closed doors is your business, but really, to have the audacity to do this in the full view of the public... You disgust me." She said waving he finger in their general direction.

Sherlock braced himself against John, obviously holding himself back.

"Maybe we should just leave, Sherlock." John said in hushed tones not wanting to make a scene.

Maria and Matthew rounded the corner, arms linked, smiling as if she had just won the lottery. "John, Sherlock! There you are! We have been looking everywhere for you." She said as she spotted Beatrice. "Are we interrupting something?" She asked, glancing back at them.

"Uh..No. We were just leaving." John said, looking at his feet, while Beatrice smiled smugly.

"Why?" Matthew asked, his face hardening.

"Because they are a disgrace. I never wanted to believe the rumors I heard about 'The Great Sherlock Holmes', but now I see that they was all true." She spat, her words as sharp as daggers.

"You can leave if that's what you want to do, but you cannot force a guest out of someone else's home." Matthew said to her.

Her face turned to a look of disgust. "Who do you think you are? These men are an perversion of all that is good and natural, and you will stand there and defend them? They desecrate the sanctity of marriage. "

"These men are sweet, kind, and loving parents. You on the other hand have had what five husbands, Mrs. Griffin. Or is it Mrs. Wilson? They have done nothing wrong, they are just enjoying the party like everyone else." Maria said, holding Matthew's hand.

"How dare you! Do you know who I am?!" Mrs. Griffin said, louder than was necessary.

"We know exactly who you are. Now, I suggest you leave, before we have to find someone to escort you out." Matthew said, his voice turning sour.

"Well I never!" She huffed as she stormed back into the ballroom.

Maria rushed over to them, placing her hand on John's shoulder. "Are you alright? That was just horrible. "

"Ya..yes. We are, I think we are just going to head home. It is getting late." John said with a sad smile.

"You don.." She started before Sherlock silenced her.

"We know, but I think it would be best." He said.

Maria smiled, trying to maintain her composure. "Okay, well, you have my number, let's set up a play date, and soon. Oh, and I also want an invitation to Madeline's birthday party."

"Yes and keep in touch, we were just saying we wanted to get to know you two better. " Matthew said, shaking Sherlock's hand.

"We will. Have a good night." Sherlock said, turning toward the house.

"You as well." They called behind them.

* * *

John sighed as he flopped onto their bed. He was dazed. He couldn't believe that people still held those sorts of views. It's the twenty first century for God's sake.

Sherlock slowly took off each piece of clothing and carefully hung it back on it's original hanger. Starting with his jacket, and then his cufflinks, then his shirt, and so on.

"John." He said, letting out a heavy breath. Watching as he didn't respond. "She was wrong. She was so very wrong."

"What part? The part where she said we were disgusting or the part about us wrecking the sanctity of marriage, or maybe th..." He said before Sherlock silenced him with a strong kiss.

"All of it, everything! There is nothing wrong with us. Our relationship is beautiful. We are perfect and our impending marriage is an amazing thing, I could not be happier. Don't let her destroy our wonderful evening with her jealous tongue." He said sternly, before bringing him into a tight embrace.

"I love you, so much it hurts. And tonight, I could not have been prouder to stand by your side." He continued, in a rare display of over the top affection.

John just looked at him, the sadness behind his eyes in sight. "It was one thing when it happened to Harry, but it's different with us. It's different when someone is standing there attacking you." He said as the sadness was replaced by fury. "She doesn't even know you! No one does. It's just like Donovan or Anderson, they think that just because you are more intelligent then them, they can just attack you. I'm not going to stand for it Sherlock, I'm done!" He yelled, ranting as he now paced the room.

"I don't need you to be my protector!" Sherlock said.

"But I want to be Sherlock!" He said, taking a few deep breaths."I love you. It is my job to take care of you, just like it is your job to take care of me. The minute we stop taking care of each other is the moment we stop caring all together."

"They are idiots! Why do you care what they think?"

"I don't! I don't care about their favorite color, I don't care what they think about strawberry jam, I do care how they treat you!" He said, sitting down on the bed for a second, before standing up again.

He was angry, anyone could tell. But only Sherlock knew how angry, he was furious, not at him, but at the situation. He wanted to scream, and yell, and throw something agaisnt the wall, just to hear it break.

"I'm going to make you a cup of tea." Sherlock said as he reached for the door.

"I dont want tea!" John yelled.

Sherlock sighed. "I don't care. You need it."

He said as he slammed the door, leaving John alone to defuse his temper. John paced, stomping his feet like a child. He was acting like a child, and he couldn't even stop. He was fuming, fighting with his flaming temper. He had always had a horrible temper, but he had learned to control it, he had to if he wanted to be a doctor. Yet here he was, kicking the wall, and no amount of breathing exercises were going to help.

After a few minutes, he had calmed down enough to at least sit in one of the chairs. But his hands were still tightly balled. His anger was at least under control now, he wasn't going to throw any chairs or anything.

There was soon a knock on the door. John almost jumped to get it, he needed to apologize. He shouldn't have acted that way, especially when Sherlock was a victim as well.

He grabbed the door and pulled it open. "Sherlock, I am..." He started until he realized that the person on the other side of the door wasn't Sherlock. It was just a maid, carrying a tray that held tea, sugar and milk. Sherlock knew just how he like his tea, but this wasn't Sherlock.

"Mr. Holmes told me that you had requested a cup of tea. Told me I should bring it right up." She said. She was sweet, she had dark skin and dark hair that was pulled tightly into a bun at the nape of her neck.

"Um..thank you. Do you know where he went?" John said, as he took the tray and placed it on the dresser.

"No, sorry sir. He just ordered a car and told me to bring you up a cuppa." She said, still smiling away. She was calming, she was easy to talk to, and she seemed kind.

"You don't have to call me sir, you can just call me John, if you want." He said.

She pursed her lips and contemplated what she was going to say. "Okay, if you say so." She laughed.

"What can I call you?" He asked.

"My name is Georgia, si...John."

"It was very nice meeting you, Georgia." John said, running his fingers through his short hair.

"You as well, but if it's alright, I must be getting back." She said as she adjusted her white apron.

"Yes, ya, of course." He smiled, watching her as she walked down the long hallway.

He shut the door as laid on the bed, glancing over at the tea cup, sitting so carefully on the silver tray. He didn't mind being alone, what he hated was not knowing where he was. Whenever Sherlock left without explanation or letting him know where he was off to, it just made him uneasy.

John took a few sips of his tea, tilting his head back to get every last drop. He sat in the chair he had been in earlier and put his feet on the small coffee table. He was exhausted, the whole day had taken a toll on him. It seemed like 221B had been a lifetime ago, instead of just that morning. He yawned just thinking about it.

Just like that he was fast asleep, letting his anger, his tension, and his frustration melt away into his dreams. Letting his thoughts turn to sweet things, and his bad memories disappear. John curled into the soft fabric of the chair and let his head rest against his arm.

When he slept he didn't have to worry or think about a case. He could just be John. That was what made sleep easy. He could drift off to another world and just wake up to a brand new day.

* * *

A/N: So, new chapter! Yeah! Let me know what you think, or what you think is going to happen, or what you think should happen, or what you think about pickles, anything! I'll be happy to hear.


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